


Ashfall

by Skeptacles



Category: Game of Thrones (TV), ビースターズ | BEASTARS
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Canon-Typical Violence, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Fantasy, M/M, Magic, Manga Spoilers, No beta we die like mne, Royalty, Slow Burn, You dont need to read GoT to understand this, some slight GoT S8 spoilers, various artistic liberties taken with how magic works in GoT universe, we will get there don't worry, you DO need to read Beastars to understand this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:56:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 54,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24332437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skeptacles/pseuds/Skeptacles
Summary: "Seek the flame frostbitten,The knight of snow and sand.In their power lies the answer,The fate of all the land.The world's end lies uncertain,The future shall be claimed.A world that burns, or a king's return,By who the beast is tamed."The King's castle is on fire, magic burns through Louis's veins, and the only way he can save the kingdom is to learn how to use it. Along the way, maybe he can find out where a certain grey wolf from Essos fits into all of this.Aka: the Beastars/Game of Thrones crossover that nobody asked for.
Relationships: Legosi/Louis (BEASTARS)
Comments: 73
Kudos: 146





	1. Tinder

**Author's Note:**

> This is what happens when you listen to the Game of Thrones and Witcher soundtracks while on a Beastars kick. It's been a good while since I've written fanfiction, so hopefully I'm no too rusty. I'm probably going to take some artistic liberties when it comes to the world of Game of Thrones as I've only watched the show and not read the books. No worries though, this is more a Beastars story than a GoT one, so you can enjoy this story without having seen/read GoT. Thank you for reading and enjoy!

“Stop fidgeting,” Oguma muttered from the opposite side of the carriage, hands placed atop a decorative cane.

Louis’s hand dropped from where it tugged at the collar of the extravagant forest-green tunic that adorned his person. He’d been wearing it for the past day and a half, and the gold embroidery along the seams and collar had been scratching his skin with every hard bump of their caravan. He settled for crossing his arms huffily.

“Why do I have to come with you? It’s the same every year I attend. I’m already bored enough to throw myself under our carriage. Whatever shall I do this week? Lay in the lavish sheets of my bedroom all day? Bask in the coquetting of every lady that looks my way? Perhaps drown myself in the garden fountains?”

“You will do whatever the King sees fit for you to do,” his father’s tone held a firm warning in it. He seemed to have less and less patience for Louis’s worsening attitude as their trip went on. “I know you are not going to shut yourself in a room for our entire visit. The King will notice, and I raised you to be smarter than that.”

Louis sighed, his fingers twitched as he held himself back from messing with his tunic again.

“There are many stronger lords than I, Father. I see no reason for me to attend these festivities again. I highly doubt the King will choose me.”

“True, you may be lacking in physical prowess, but King Yafya admires strength of the mind over strength of the body. If he didn’t, we would already be subjected to the rulings of Lord Bill of House Tigris.”

Louis couldn’t help but smirk and huff a short laugh at the idea of the brutish bengal strutting about the lavish castle in stifling royal garb. Bill would sooner rule naked than wear the almost garish garments of high royalty.

He turned his head to the window, and the collar of his tunic raked against his skin again.

To be fair, the idea appealed to him in that moment.

He and his tailor were going to have words when he got back home.

The younger stag pushed the soft blue curtain of the carriage’s window aside with a finger. The brilliant reds and golds of King’s Landing were slowly flashing around them as their entourage navigated the cobblestone streets leading to the imposing figure of King Yafya’s castle in the distance.

It wasn’t an unfamiliar sight to Louis. In his twenty-four years, he and his father had made this same trip once every four years.

The King of Westeros, King Yafya of House Caballus, was a strong king. He was firm, but not unkind. He found his way to the throne over thirty years ago. The horse had been a great knight for the previous king, the Captain of the Guard and a hero amongst the animals of Westeros. At only eighteen years of age, enemies to the crown had known him as “The Black Devil” during the last few years of what became to be known by the people as The Blood War. A decade long war that had been fought between herbivores and carnivores in Westeros.

It was said that Yafya once defeated a ten-foot polar bear with one swing of his sword. Tales of his victories were quick to sweep across the land, enticing carnivores and herbivores alike. Nobody knew where he came from, only what he was when he fought.

His own son lost in battle and no extended family to claim the throne, the old white rhino king had named Yafya his heir on his deathbed. The horse’s bravery, strength, and tactical knowledge made him a revered choice amongst the Westerosi. He ruled as he fought: fair, strong, and unwavering.

Yafya, for whatever reason, never married, nor had he sired any children. So, every four years he would gather the Lords of Westeros’s great families. They called it Festival of the Sublime. There would be tournaments, a gala, and Yafya made sure all the Lords and their families’ stays were lavished with delicious food and comfortable furnishings in the castle itself. Some lords only attended to discuss trade and negotiations with the other houses in the jovial setting.

It was also a way for the king to survey Louis’s generation, searching for an animal worthy enough to take his place when his rule ended. It was full of posturing, one-upping, and prideful boasts of battle. Louis found it utterly frivolous.

His father believed he had a good chance of being chosen, however. Louis was brought up to be smart. His family, House Elaphus, was known for their dignity and fortitude. They were not like the carnivore lords. Louis did not have the muscle, claws, or teeth that made them great warriors. No, the strengths of House Elaphus lay with their diligence, their tactical knowledge, their abilities of negotiation and resourcefulness. Quite a few of Louis’s ancestors had been Hand to the King for those very reasons. King Yafya, for all his brawn, made it no secret that he held the idea of strength of the mind over strength of the body.

Which, to his Father, meant Louis was still in the running.

Louis leaned his head forward until he heard his antlers clack against the window. The residents of King’s Landing milled about the streets, completing their daily tasks, and paying little to no mind to the lavish carriage that passed them by. Sometimes he wished he could disappear into a crowd like them, to not have to force niceties and pretend to be interested in the drab conversations he will have to endure at the castle later.

“At least try to look like you’re enjoying yourself this week,” his father grumbled.

Louis dropped his hand and let the curtain swish closed.

“Like you won’t be struggling to pay attention while Lord Milten rabbles on about his ‘rare Dornish oryx harem’ during the gala,” Louis retorted, smirking.

Oguma gave him a sharp tap on the head with his cane, right between his antlers.

“Ow!”

“Behave,” the smile on Oguma’s face contradicted the firmness of the words. “Now, look alive. We’re here.”

The carriage shuddered to a halt right on cue. The carriage door opened, and the distinctive manned head of Ibuki peaked into the cabin. Ibuki was of his father’s personal guard, the best in fact. He was also one of Louis’s closest friends.

“My Lord, do you want me to bring your belongings into the castle?”

“No, let the King’s servants do it,” Oguma waved him off as he made his way out the carriage. “They’ll probably know more about where to take them than you do. Accompany us to the main hall, will you? We are late and should greet our King.”

Their oxen drivers paid for their service, and their luggage taken by a serval under Yafya’s servitude, the two stags were escorted to the main hall of the castle, the soft clink of Ibuki’s plated armor a reassuring constant behind them. Everyone would be meeting there this morning, as King Yafya always liked to give a formal greeting to commence the start of the festival.

When they entered the throne room it was, as always, breathtaking.

The large windows looking over the city brightened the smooth marble pillars and floor. They towered from floor to ceiling, and Louis could see Blackwater Bay glinting in the sun past the crowded roofs of King's Landing. The colors of House Caballus, purple and silver, gleamed in the light from where they hung throughout the wide room. Giant woven tapestries showing the silhouette of a horse head and mane, the sigil of the King's house, hung from the ceiling. Servants walked around carrying trays with wine goblets. Animals filled up half the space of the entire room. Tens of lords, along with their heirs, wives, and guards shuffled around each other in a sort of orderly chaos. The mingling conversation of all the animals in the room gave off a droning, echoing white noise that make Louis’s sensitive ears flick in annoyance.

Oguma nudged him forward, and their small entourage made their way through the throng.

Louis gazed around the room, noting acquaintances and strangers as he followed his father. His eyes caught a flash of orange on his right and he looked over to see the aforementioned bengal tiger, Bill. The feline caught his eye, smirked, and flipped him off. Louis scoffed to himself at the tiger’s antics and sent a polite nod the tiger’s way.

Play nice, play nice.

Past the crowd, sitting upon a large throne made of bronze, was King Yafya. His figure, in Louis’s eyes, had always been imperial. The horse’s black fur was iridescent against the sunlight, his shoulders broad and straight. A dark purple cloak accentuated the shine of his fur. The slate grey silk tunic beneath it was adorned with violet embroidery. The crown on his head was made of tarnished steel, the metal woven around raw chunks of amethyst. He outshone every other animal in the room.

There wasn’t a herbivore alive who didn’t have an immense respect for the King, simply for the idea that there was any other herbivore capable of defeating monstrous carnivores with only a few swings of his sword. He was a living contradiction to the concept of strong predator and weak prey.

“King Yafya,” Oguma greeted and bowed, his cloak flared behind him at the movement. On it, their house sigil, a pair of curving antlers, gleamed in the gold sunlight.

Louis, and Ibuki behind him, followed his father’s lead. They bent a knee to bow lowly to their king.

“Welcome, Oguma, it’s been quite a while, hasn’t it?” the king’s voice was formal, but held a friendly tilt to it.

Louis unfolded himself from his bow, listening to his father and the king exchange pleasantries, when he felt eyes on him.

He froze.

Louis prided himself on his lack of prey instincts. The soldiers who guarded his home were all lions for the gods’s sakes. He’d grown up with them, let them treat him when he was injured, even sparred with them on occasion. Carnivores were around him daily. Carnivores were under his command. He did _not_ freeze like a young lamb alone in the dark woods when one dared to look at him as prey.

But this…something in the air raised the hair on the back of his neck. It tingled down his spine. The noise in the room slowly muted itself, even though the mouths of the crowd still moved. They all seemed to be oblivious to the unnerving electric charge in the air.

His eyes drifted of their own accord, as if pulled by an invisible force. His gut, somehow, knew where to look. And there, in the corner, past the king’s throne. He found the owner of those eyes.

A wolf.

A _grey wolf_.

Louis’s breath caught in his throat. The canine was leaning against the wall, his eyes on Louis. The deer had never seen anything like him.

Grey wolves lived only in the land of snow to the north. Seeing one south of the Wall that divided the northern wastelands of Westeros was unheard of nowadays. The last pack of Westeros’s wolves, the Starks, died off or left the country long ago. The world of endless winter was the only place they could thrive, so it was said they went north. True or not, any canid larger than a coyote had not been seen in Westeros in decades. Louis himself had never seen one in person, only ghostly drawings and pictures in books.

This wolf in particular was certainly not from the area. The thick, stormy fur above and around his neck was thick, two short braids were halfway hidden in the tuffs behind one of his ears. Framing the wolf’s sharp eyes was a black coloring so stark against the surrounding cream fur that Louis couldn’t tell if it was natural or some kind of war paint. He wore a dark burgundy padded armor vest over his torso, and that normally would not be strange, if not for the dark emerald reptile scales that accented the dark fabric. Matching pants and worn boots made up the rest of his foreign ensemble. At his side was the distinct half-moon curve of arakh blade.

They stared. The world seemed to fade. The only thing that existed in that moment were those sharp eyes.

Pale green, Louis noted, with brilliant golden flecks around cryptic pupils.

Louis was _entranced_.

“And Louis, look at you,” the King’s voice startled him.

Louis snapped his attention away from the wolf. The sounds of the world drifted back to his ears.

The King smiled, “Your antlers have grown. You look as regal as your father does.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty. You are too kind,” Louis was glad his voice wasn’t as shaken as he felt.

Yafya nodded, “You should find your friends, I’m sure you’ve missed them. Let me speak to your father for a moment. I’ll be addressing everyone shortly afterwards.”

Louis bowed again, and turned to walk into the crowd, dismissed.

As he walked, his gaze drifted to the back corner again.

The wolf was not there.

He felt unsettled and bewitched. He wondered if the folktales of wolves having a connection to magic were true.

“There you are, you bastard!”

A heavy hand clapped his back, knocking the breath out of him. He turned and glared at the offender.

“That brutish attitude of yours getting you any points from the other houses?” Louis mocked with a tense smile.

Bill roared a laugh, and held out a hand, “No more than the stick up your ass does!”

Louis took Bill’s outstretched hand. Most herbivores were still wary of carnivores in this day and age. The war ended barely half a century ago, so arguments and small renegade carnivore gangs still ran amok around the kingdom.

Louis couldn’t help but feel the pricks of Bill’s claws against his hand. He tried not to think too much about the strength in the tiger’s grasp.

“Will you join in and fight in the tournament this year? I’ve seen you spar with your lions. I _know_ you know how to use a blade.”

Louis grit his teeth, “And _I_ know that _you_ know herbivores aren’t allowed to participate in the tournament. Are you seriously going around trying to provoke everyone into fighting you on the first day of the festival?”

Bill shrugged, “There’s no fault in sizing up the competition. Come on, let loose. Let my blade meet yours for once.”

Louis would never admit it out loud, but the idea had always been tempting. To see how he stood against a carnivore in battle.

_You would lose._

Louis mentally shook the offending thought from his brain.

“I’m sure His Majesty has a few new knights you can pit yourself against. And I expect nothing but victories from you. Do not disappoint me,” he raised a brow as he sent the friendly challenge to the tiger.

“Oh ye of little faith,” Bill waved off Louis’s statement as he turned to head back through the crowd. “Don’t worry, I don’t go down easily.”

Louis hummed at the feline’s retreating back. A servant passed by, and Louis snatched a glass of dark wine from the tray before trying to subtly down the entire cup in one go.

“Already need that much of a distraction, Louis? That’s a record if do I say so myself.” Louis flinched, almost spilling his wine as tuffs of white fur appeared next to him

“Tem,” Louis greeted. He breathed a long sigh, willing his heart to stop pounding against his ribs.

Tem was one of the animals whose company he genuinely didn’t mind. The alpaca lived basically right outside the walls of King’s Landing. He knew the streets so well they would occasionally try to sneak out of the castle together when they were younger. Due to frequent visits, Tem knew the servants and the castle’s layout like the back of his hand. He was kind, spoke only when he had something important to say, and was quite intelligent when it came to the history and genealogy of Westeros. It didn’t surprise him that Yafya considered him as one worthy of the throne.

“Are you alright, Louis? You seem a bit jumpy.”

He was also very adept at reading people.

Louis felt his eyes drift to the back corner of the throne room again.

“Tem, have you noticed anyone…new at this year’s visit?” Louis tried not to let the curiosity show on his face.

“Hm?” Tem tilted his head and looked at the ceiling as he thought, “Well, I think House Matschiei brought along a new daughter. And Lady Nora has her fiancée attending her this year. Quite a strange fellow. I heard he saws off his horns so other animals wont steal them.”

Louis surveyed the room, “Any new canines?”

Tem started at him in bewilderment. Then, his eyes lit up.

“Oh! Are you speaking of the grey wolf Legosi?”

Louis whipped his gaze to the alpaca.

Tem smiled knowingly at him, “That was my reaction when I met him as well.”

Louis felt uncharacteristically intrigued. He wanted to know more.

“You know him?”

Tem shot a glance at the animals around them warily before motioning for Louis to bend down to his level.

“He’s the new kingsguard,” he whispered. “He arrived here around four years ago, a few months after the last festival. He hopped off a merchant ship from Essos and barged into the castle asking for the King. A few hours later and King Yafya declared the servants set up a room and feed him. He hasn’t left the King’s side since.”

“Essos?”

The rough skirmishes between renegade carnivores and herbivores in Westeros were nothing compared to the tales of the almost feral animals that lived across the Narrow Sea in Essos. It was an entirely different world over there. Their inhabitants were…uncivilized according to most animals. Blood was spilled faster, decorum was hard to find, and savagery was everywhere. Essos was the untamed, raging wildfire to Westeros’s carefully tended-to embers. No Westerosi herbivore, nor most small carnivores, dared to venture there under fear of a painful, drawn-out death.

“Oh, don’t let him fool you. Legosi looks ferocious, but he’s actually really nice! I always see him help out the servants. He keeps to himself a lot, but he is the epitome of a gentle giant.”

 _Nice? Gentle?_ Louis almost scoffed at the thought of the large wolf doing mundane tasks around the castle.

So much power, the animal was a kingsguard and yet…

Louis felt an emotion flare up, one he’d struggled with his whole life.

Envy.

Despite reassurances, despite his high standing, Louis knew he would never measure up to carnivores like Bill and Ibuki. There was no doubt his lions were loyal, but he saw their pitying stares, their worried glances, their overprotective hovering. Oh what Louis would do if he had the sheer strength of the carnivores of this world. One thing he was not looking forward to if he became king was the idea of being the most powerful and yet the most vulnerable animal in Westeros, especially with the rocky tension held between the herbivores and carnivores in the country. Yafya was a different story, but Louis could imagine what a carnivore would do to assassinate a weaker, smaller red deer king.

Large jaw muscles, silent footsteps, blades of metal and bone.

The idea of a wolf like that submitting himself to animals like him or Tem was _laughable_.

To think the gods wasted such strength on an obedient dog.

His musings were cut short as the crowd hushed silent.

Yafya stood from his throne, his figure imposing and majestic before his subjects. When he spoke, everyone listened.

“I thank you all for once again gathering at my discretion for the Festival of the Sublime.”

The crowd watched, enraptured by the words of their ruler.

“This year, I am going to provide you with something…quite special in addition to our normal festivities.” The king’s eyes turned hard, serious.

“This year, at the end of the week, I will choose my successor and the heir to the throne of Westeros.”

There was a shocked silence, then a blaring cacophony of excited shouts and bewildered questions.

Louis pinned his ears against his head at the echoing, shrill noise, but beneath the annoyance was a flare of nervousness. The heir would be announced at the end of the festivities…perhaps _he_ could be…

He grit his teeth, banishing the thought from the forefront of his mind. He looked at the larger herbivores, at Bill who was animatedly shouting his excitement to his father. He thought of the strength that lay beneath the surface of the tiger’s striped fur.

He thought of the eyes of the wolf, sharp and calculating.

His blunt nails dug into his skin as he clenched his fists. He barely heard the rest of what the King said, his pulse pounded heavily in his ears.

No. This was a hope he would not entertain to keep.

* * *

When Legosi finally entered the great hall, the sun had slipped past the horizon and the animals of the castle were at least one bottle deep into the festivities. He passed the long tables that lined the hall as he made his way to the head table where King Yafya was seated.

His nose caught so many smells, it came close to overwhelming his brain. Never in the time he started living here had there been this many animals in the castle. He was not ashamed to admit to Yafya how nervous he had been in the weeks leading up to this Festival of the Sublime.

After all, even if the normal visitors and residents of the castle had gotten used to his presence there, there was no telling how these important lords and ladies of the land would react to seeing an enormous grey wolf at the king’s side.

Thankfully, it seemed that few of the visitors paid much attention to him, though that was partially due to his own efforts. The wolf made sure to show his submission to make their guests comfortable: hunching his back, eyes focused on the ground, bowing low. It was all in the effort of keeping the peace. Yafya had said that many of the families attending were wary of large carnivores like him, so Legosi did his best to instill a good opinion of himself, and therefore the king, in their eyes.

In his effort to remain unnoticed and nonthreatening, he tucked his tail, lowered his ears, and stuck to the wall as he made his way to the King’s table.

As he went, the more distinct scents of the feast assaulted his nose. The stinging spices on the roasted vegetables, the sweet bitterness of wine, the myriad of scents of the animals around him coalescing into an indistinguishable mess in the air.

The smoky, yet floral, aroma of cedar.

Legosi shook his head. None of that now, he scolded himself.

No use, the smell was following him the same way it had that morning in the throne room.

Legosi resolutely stopped himself from searching the crowd for the owner of said aroma.

He bounded up the small set of stairs that held the king’s table higher than the those of his guests and slipped silently behind Yafya’s chair.

The king sent a glance towards him before turning back to the festivities, “You’re a bit late, aren’t you?”

“I’m sorry. I was...um..."

“No matter,” the horse pushed the chair to he left out with his foot. “Come, sit with me. You can listen to all the inebriated lords try to brownnose their way into me making their sons king.”

Legosi hesitated a moment, looking out at the crowd. He could imagine the gossip. The lords and ladies sticking their heads together, whispering how dare a mutt from the east sit like royalty beside the king...

“Stop thinking and sit with me, Legosi. You’re allowed to enjoy the night just as much as anyone else here.”

Legosi swallowed nervously but slipped into the slightly too small chair. The armrests bit into his hips as he settled, slipping his hands between his knees to hide his claws from the mostly herbivore crowd. Legosi turned to see Yafya pouring him a cup of wine.

“I know you prefer white, but the best of my red wines are saved for the festival.”

Legosi took the cup and gazed down into the dark burgundy depths of his goblet. The first time he had tried wine, a delicacy that had been absent in his life in Essos, he had muttered an offhand comment about how it resembled blood.

 _No_ , Yafya had replied at the time, _blood is easier to find, and the stains are a lot harder to wash out._

“Go on,” current Yafya said as a servant (Els he recognized) filled his plate with honeyed carrots and sugared sweet potatoes. “No animal here will go against you being here if it’s me that wished it. Enjoy the evening. After four years of nonstop service to me, you deserve it.”

The wolf disagreed with the king’s last words, but there was no going against Yafya…even if it meant keeping him company through the formalities that were about to come.

Legosi groaned at the thought and took a sip of the wine. Disgusting, but if he was going to sit with Yafya while lord after lord approached to make small talk, he wasn’t going to do it completely sober.

He almost choked on his second sip when Yafya clapped a strong hand on his back, “Atta boy!”

He caught a flash of white as Els passed behind him on her way back out of the hall. Legosi turned with pleading eyes.

“Els, get me out of this, will ya?”

The kitchen maid, the first of the very few friends he made at King’s Landing, giggled softly to herself as she continued carrying her empty platter to the kitchen, “And commit treason? No way.”

“Els, please, he’s making me talk to people…”

“Sorry, Legosi! King’s orders.”

Legosi grumbled halfheartedly as she walked away chuckling at his misery.

“Don’t worry,” Yafya said, dignified as ever but hiding a smile behind his glass of wine. “You memorized the guest list like I told you to, correct?”

“Um…yes? Well, I believe most of them.”

“Good. If you continue to be kingsguard to whoever succeeds me, then it will beneficial for you to know of them. As well as the other houses here today. You never know who will turn into an ally or enemy to the crown depending on my choice.”

Legosi nodded. As complicated as all the politics and dealings of the higherups of Westeros was, this was simple. Protect the King. That was what he was good at, what he was here for.

Before either of them could say anything further of the matter, one of the guests (Lord Arving of House Scriptus, his mind provided) stepped up to greet Yafya.

His jaunt up to smooth-talk the king seemed to set off the rest of the crowd, who each took their turn approaching the table to pay amends to Yafya for his generosity in providing for the festival.

Every animal noticed Legosi as they approached. Some were obviously wary, and some seemed disgusted to see him sitting so close to their king. Yafya made sure to firmly tell the latter that Legosi had been invited to sit at his table.

Four years ago, Yafya would not have gone to such lengths to make sure Legosi was included. When he arrived at the grand castle in this country so different from his own, Yafya had been angry. He had requested Legosi’s grandfather come to his aid, not his hybrid grandchild. Legosi did no back down though. His grandfather despised Westeros. When he received a summons for help from the king, Legosi had demanded rather than suggested to Gosha that he go in his place. Gosha trained him to fight, and he was able to protect their village from raiders. In fact, he was the best warrior in their village. Why should his aging grandfather go serve his old friend who had only reached out after so many years when he needed something? Why should his grandfather have to leave the home he built with his grandmother to a country he hated? Legosi was young and strong. It didn’t take much to convince his grandfather to let him go in his stead.

Now? Legosi watched as Yafya gave the wolf a subtle eye roll as he listened to a zebra try to flirt her way onto the throne. The horse finally seemed to match up with the ‘Uncle Yafya’ Gosha described him as in his old stories.

His presence being thoroughly ignored by their current guest, Legosi turned his attention to the crowd. Animals of all shapes and sizes, laughing and dancing. Some guest howled with laughter from supposedly a joke, there was the giggling of young children as they chased each other around the hall, and the merry atmosphere put Legosi at ease.

He glanced across the room to the area of floor devoid of tables that served to give the guests room to dance. Legosi didn’t recognize the song, but male and female animals were paired up in a gentle, . Silk gowns and petticoats twirled in a never-ending mix of colors. So many shades of golds, silver, purples—appearing out of the dancing crowd, Legosi caught sight of branching horns and short, fine fur—and reds.

The young stag was dancing with a doe. His mouth was moving, though Legosi could not hear the words that were said.

He sighed. He should apologize for his behavior towards the deer during the opening ceremony in the throne room. He didn’t know what had come over him that morning. He had been doing his duty keeping watch for trouble in the ever-growing crowd that gathered in the room. Crowds were bad. It was easier to hide threats in a crowd, easier for an enemy to blend in. But when he saw that male deer…

It was natural for him to judge any newcomers for ill intentions, especially one who got close to the king. So, when the deer’s entourage stepped forward to greet Yafya, Legosi’s eyes were on them.

And then the deer’s gaze met his and…Legosi was not sure how to describe it. His scent had assaulted his nose immediately, drowning out the scents of all other animals in the room. His eyes bore into his, like he could unravel all of Legosi’s secrets with just his gaze. He had been able to feel the unbridled power simmering beneath the cervid’s skin.

The deer was _brimming_ with the chaos of magic.

Pulled from his rumination, Legosi felt an abrupt, sharp change in the air of the great hall. It was like encountering a strong smell or sound, but it manifested as more of an overall feeling than anything physical. He sat up, now alert.

Legosi had always been incredibly sensitive to magic, rare as it was. His grandfather said it was due to his Komodo dragon side. _We did descend from the dragons of old, you know. Perhaps they gave us their gift to sense the hidden mysteries of the world._

Ever since he was little, Legosi knew how to read those hidden mysteries. Each animal able to wield the power of magic gave off an aura. Each were unique, with some distinct signs to what kind of magic they used.

It was so easy now for Legosi to pick up the tingle of magic in the air. He taught himself how to read the prickles and trills of energy rolling down his spine when a mage was near. He remembered the one he felt earlier in the throne room. The young, red stag. His magic had been warm, but crackling and untamed like sparks flying out of a barely-contained inferno.

This one was much darker. The wolf surveyed the room, ears up and alert, as he tried to identify the source of the magic’s foul, sour tinge.

“Yafya…” he whispered.

The magical aura vanished as quickly as it appeared.

Legosi shook his head as the last tingling touch of the magic dissipated. He sighed, not realizing he had been holding his breath.

“Legosi? What is it?” Yafya asked beside him.

Legosi surveyed the room, nothing had changed. The guests continued their festivities without a care. Perhaps it had been one of the maesters. The smell of their healing poultices and potions were strong and always left a bad taste on his tongue.

But still…

He stood from his chair, the scraping of its wooden legs against the floor was drowned out as the music fluttered about the great hall.

“Please excuse me, Your Grace. I must see to something.” Yafya’s eyes narrowed at the formality, grasping the hidden meaning in the words.

Yafya waved him off, “Of course. Duty calls.”

As Legosi hurried himself out of the great hall, unaware of the pair of bright copper eyes that followed his form out.


	2. Sparks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am humbled by all the hits, kudos, and comments from the first chapter! Happy reading!

Louis was gripping his goblet so tightly, he wondered how the metal didn’t bend under the force.

 _This_ was why he hadn’t wanted to attend the festival. Bill was one thing, a boasting annoyance but harmless enough. Other nobles weren’t quite as innocuous.

He forced a tight, polite smile as the female waterbuck he was conversing with drug her hand up Louis’s arm. It was meant to be alluring, but having someone touch him without reciprocity made Louis feel ambushed. This was the fifteenth one this night. He’d conversed with some, danced with some, some even offered up proposals for arranged marriages. It was getting unbearable.

He wasn’t ignorant. He knew he was an attractive buck to the other herbivores around him, especially those of ungulate descent. He knew it, other males knew it, the ladies of the festival certainly knew it.

Light from a nearby torch reflected off one of the waterbuck’s gaudy bracelets and right into Louis’s eye.

He’d let his antlers fall out in the middle of the feast if it meant he could _finally_ get a moment to himself for the night.

“Oh my, now that’s a handsome face I haven’t seen in quite a while!” a familiar voice sounded from behind him.

 _Gods take me now_ , Louis pleaded as the owner of the voice skipped into his line of sight and practically draped himself on Louis’s free arm.

The dall sheep looked down his nose at the waterbuck doe on Louis’s other side.

“My good Lady, would you mind leaving us for a bit? Besides, I do believe your _husband_ is over by the minstrels looking for you,” the sheep winked her way.

The doe’s eyes narrowed, but the thinly veiled threat did its job. Her stomping could almost be heard over the merriment of the hall. Pina seemed satisfied with himself, as he usually was when he butted his way into other people’s affairs. The sheep’s outfit, a white tunic and red vest, wasn’t as ornate as Louis’s was, but it still held quality of someone above peasantry.

“Pina, _not now_.” Louis ground out.

“Oh, come on,” Pina whined. “I haven’t seen my favorite Lord in so long! I was afraid you had not shown up. Although, I don’t blame you for trying to avoid the drivel of these…what’s a polite word for harlots?”

Louis let out a huff of a laugh despite himself, seeing as he spent the last hour prying the hands of wanton ladies off his person without reprise.

A flash of steel grey caught his eye,, distracting him. The neutral shade starkly contrasted against the vibrant colors of the nobles surrounding them. A sense of intrigue pulled at Louis's mind, and he rose to the balls of his feet to glimpse at the grey wolf over the heads of the other animals in the hall. He was conversing with the king, seated right next to His Majesty. Louis strained his ears to hear the conversation they were having but couldn’t make it out over the rest of the noise that bounced around the room.

“Actually, Pina I have a special treat for you if you tell me something,” Louis smirked as he lowered his gaze back down to the sheep.

A lower-ranking noble he was, but Pina waltzed around the capital like he was the fucking ruler the Seven Kingdoms. He was adept, and he used his lower status to his advantage as a first-class informant. He was very well versed at bartering useful information out of pretty mich everyone, no matter their status or background. Every animal was fair game. Louis wasn’t sure if the sheep had loyalties to any animal at all besides himself.

Pina’s eyes lit up, “Well, I do pride myself on being quite knowledgeable about the woes of wealthier men. What do you need?”

“What information do you have on the King’s grey wolf guard?”

Pina perked up, “Ah! I knew you had good taste!”

“What?”

Hand to his cheek, Pina sighed dreamily, “So handsome, he’s such a catch! Here, I’ll give you a tidbit for free. The loveliest man to ever cross your way! Muscles as hard as the mountains of The Vale. Voice like a bubbling brook. And his eyes…”

Pina twirled a lock of his white fur around a finger, practically drooling, “What I would give to let that animal go feral on me for a night – “

“Enough,” Louis snapped, grimacing at the image the declaration brought up, “I want to know the reason he’s here. He's holding something over Yafya, isn't he?”

Pina furrowed his brows, "Why would he be?"

Was the animal being deliberately obtuse? 

"He's a _wolf_ ," Louis said, annoyed.

Pina’s casual demeanor instantly flipped to unamused.

“You too? _Gods_ , you’re all the same,” he crossed his arms and looked away in disdain. “I’ve had seven other houses ask me the exact same thing. Leave the poor man alone. I’ve spent time with him, trust me when I say he’s not like you think he is.”

Louis’s eyes widened, lost for words. Pina’s attitude had never strayed from his casual impishness before. Neither had he ever turned down a bargain for information, it practically went against his nature. Louis’s eyes narrowed.

“Other people are asking about him?”

Pina scoffed, “He’s the first wolf in Westeros in two hundred years. Naturally, everyone wants to get some dirt on him. ‘Pina, is he going to eat us?’, ‘Pina, what is he blackmailing the king with?’, ‘Pina, why hasn’t he been publicly executed him yet?’. I guess I shouldn’t expect anything less from cowardly lords like them, but I had thought you were above that.”

Pina met his eyes and jabbed a finger at his chest, “Leave him alone, he doesn’t deserve getting dragged through the dirt by an asshole like you.”

So not only had this animal deceived Tem and the King, but even an animal as unbiased as _Pina_?

No, there had to be _something_ , some information being withheld.

Louis unlatched a drawstring bag from his belt. Holding it in front of him, he shook it and let the jingle of gold coins ring in the air between them. He smirked as he saw Pina’s eyes widen.

“I’m sure you’ve seen _something_ past his…coy demeanor.”

Pina stared at the bag, the sheep’s hand twitched at his side. However, the lower-status animal huffed.

“You know,” his lips slowly turned up into a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, “I don’t think I’ll tell you anything.”

A quiet scrape of chair legs dragging fluttered through the other noises and to the two herbivores. They both turned as they saw Legosi stand, bow to the king, and leave the great hall in a hurry.

Pina hummed, “Maybe you should go find your answers from the source.”

The sheep made his way back through the rabble, gliding effortlessly between animals with nary a glance back towards the stag.

Louis decided he was done with the frivolous accusations that this animal wasn’t dangerous. There was no way a wolf suddenly appeared for no reason other than to protect Yafya. This was his King, his kingdom. It was his duty, as a lord, to investigate potential threats to the realm. He was going to stop this animal before he caused any damage, no matter what anyone else here said.

He found himself walking to the other side of the hall, to where the wolf had exited. Ibuki saw him from the alcove he’d made himself at home in along the wall. He made to follow Louis out, but the deer waved him off as he passed. He didn’t want the lion trying to stop him from this confrontation.

Louis stormed after the canine. Leaving the great hall, he caught the tail end of the wolf’s…well, tail disappearing around a corner.

Louis hurried after him. The halls were empty, so it was easy to catch up and corner the wolf by himself.

“You! Wolf.” Louis said, voice echoing off the stone walls, once he reached his quarry.

The canine’s ears perked up, and he turned to see Louis. His tail gave a soft wag, perhaps attempting to placate the deer before him.

“Good evening, My Lord. Do you acquire assistance?”

There was an accented tilt to the wolf’s sentences, a flourish about the Ls and a crackle on the Rs that the languages in Westeros didn’t have.

An unidentifiable feeling tingled Louis’s chest, like the rumbling start of a storm.

He decided to bypass pleasantries and get straight to the point.

“Why are you here?”

The wolf tilted his head, “Why am I...I do not understand the question, My Lord.”

Louis grit his teeth; the animal was trying to play dumb.

“You’re the new kingsguard, yes? How did you come to obtain this position?”

The wolf shifted his weight from side to side, “Oh, well, Lord…Louis? Is that right? Well, you see, a few years ago I sailed here. I know the previous, um, guard had…”

Louis tuned out the wolf’s explanation, and instead his focus was drawn to the way the animal moved his hands. The clawed appendages flared about as he talked, emphasizing certain parts of his explanation. Such blatant flourish of an animal’s natural weapons was considered extremely disrespectful, especially from a lowly carnivore towards a high-ranking herbivore noble.

“Do carnivores from the east always show off their claws so shamelessly?”

The canine froze. He quickly balled his fists and hid them behind his back. A dullness settled over his eyes and he seemed to hunch over more.

“I apologize, My Lord. I was only—"

The display of humility fueled Louis’s resentment. Something flared under his skin, an energy inside him, restless and turbulent.

Louis used that energy and, before he could register what he was doing, he rammed the wolf back up against the cold stone wall.

Legosi’s eyes widened as he stared at Louis with something akin to fear, and it only served to make the deer angrier.

“I see what you’re trying to do, _dog_ ,” He sneered, his hand crept up to circle the wolf’s throat. “You think you can just come to our land ununvited and, what? Cozy up to _our_ king so you, a foreign carnivore, can take the throne out from someone who has worked their whole lives for it?”

The wolf didn’t answer, but Louis could feel the bobbing of his throat as he swallowed. Legosi tried to avert his eyes from the deer, but Louis clenched his hand around the wolf’s throat harder. He wanted those eyes on _him_.

“They say in Essos carnivores devour herbivores without remorse…and that the herbivores _let_ them,” Legosi licked his chops nervously, and Louis got a glimpse at the pearlescent daggers hiding in his maw. He wondered how many times those white teeth have been stained red. How often he tasted the metallic tang of another’s blood.

His hand lifted from the wolf’s neck to his mouth. The tip of his thumb brushed the sharp point of a long canine tooth. Legosi stood tense and still. The kinetic energy of a frozen cascade, an iced over waterfall, the tautness of a bowstring pulled tight. Louis ventured further. He lifted the wolf’s lips to expose all those unmarked, glistening fangs.

“I hear stories that say pups and cubs in the deserts of the east are born from fire and flesh.” He muttered.

He brushed a thumb against the smooth curve of a tooth. “Tell me, what herbivore’s blood birthed a beast like you?”

Legosi’s mouth opened, probably to spit some retort at him. Louis took the opportunity and shoved his whole hand into the wolf’s mouth. His heart shuddered at the thrill of the teeth pressing against the delicate skin of his hand.

The wolf gagged but made no move to either dislodge Louis or shove his arm further into his gaping maw.

“I'm below the king, but I'm _still_ above _you_. That means you'll follow my orders, right? You say you're loyal to the crown? Prove it.”

Louis shoved his whole weight forward, pressing the wolf harder against the wall. Was that the sound of claws scraping across the stone?

“ _Bite me_ ,” he all but snarled.

And then, just faintly, the wolf complied. Louis found his hand pinched between the upper and lower canines, not enough to draw blood, but enough to feel the uncomfortable prick of their fine points. The sting of their sharpness raced down the nerves of his arm like lightning. It was enough to satisfy the restless energy swirling inside him, it purred and trilled at the touch. The sensation was indescribable.

It was also enough to shock Louis back into the present.

What was he doing?

Perplexed at his own words, his actions, Louis frowned and gingerly withdrew his hand.

Legosi bolted away from the wall as soon as he was free, wide-eyed and gasping.

Louis watched as the wolf held a hand to his mouth. The beast closed his eyes and took deep, controlled breaths.

When he opened his eyes, he was more composed. Mouth pressed into a firm line, Legosi straightened and set his eyes on Louis. Whatever Louis had done, whatever he had said the tired, hollow veil over the wolf’s gaze had lifted.

“I didn’t come to Westeros to take the crown. I came to _protect_ it.”

The air of the corridor was firm and silent between them.

The wolf bowed low at the waist, his voice dry, “My apologies for the disturbance. I understand your hesitancy and distrust, I shall try to remain out of your way for the duration of your stay. Enjoy the rest of the fesitval, My Lord.”

When he straightened, his eyes once again dull.

As Legosi walked away, Louis wondered if he maybe had gone a bit too far.

He narrowed his eyes and huffed. So what if he had?

He turned on his heel and stalked to his assigned room. The halls seemed to get darker and more constricting as he made his way. The torch light bounced off the stone walls, harsh and condemning. Were the corridors of the Red Keep always this narrow? He shoved his hands in his pockets and stormed up a staircase. As he walked, some of his common sense came crawling back to him.

 _That was so stupid. What were you thinking? Shoving your hand into the mouth of a wolf for fuck’s sake! Do you_ want _to die?_

Reaching his room, the sound of him slamming the door shut was loud, but not loud enough to drown out the reprimands of his own mind.

He shucked off his pants and the tunic with the goddamn scratchy collar. He threw the offending garment across the room and onto a velvet-lined chair in the corner. Seething, he pulled on his nightclothes, the pair with the long sleeves because it was freezing in the cavernous castle. Dressed, he moved over to the room’s vanity. 

A bowl on the edge of it had been filled with fresh water. Dipping an adjacent cloth into it, he ran the cool, damp fabric over his face, washing the scent of the feast off his fur.

Dropping the hands, he looked up at the mirror.

And he just stared, absently wondering what it was he expected to see.

Gaunt face.

Thin body.

Eyes as hollow and dull as the wolf’s.

There was a _whoosh_ , and Louis looked down to see end of his right sleeve on fire.

“Shit!” He waved his arm around in the air frantically before patting the flames out with the damp washcloth.

He winced at the sight of the ruined sleeve and rolled it up past his elbow.

Holding his right hand in front of him, Louis grunted in annoyance.

The heat flaring from his palm was so hot there were visible waves of heat distorting the air around it. He could feel the searing temperature on his face, like he was standing right in front of the guarded fireplace in his bedroom back home.

The fur on his palm rippled slowly, lazily waving like a candle flame. His veins burned painlessly. If he stared closer, he could make out a faint light past the red fur.

He sneered at it and unceremoniously thrust his hand into the bowl of water. It bubbled and sizzled under the heat of his hand, steam curling and dancing up before dissipating into the air. When the water went still, he brought it in front of his face again.

Dripping wet, but normal. He closed his hand into a fist.

He had always had magic, ever since he could remember. His father knew, their little pride of lion guards knew, but nobody else. Magic wasn’t present in Westeros, it had died out along with the dragons and monsters of old. For his entire life, the otherworldly fire sat, untamed, inside him. It only seemed to present itself when Louis felt incredibly intense emotions.

One time, when he was twelve, he got into a horrible argument with his father and set the study on fire in his anger and frustration without meaning to. When it was put out, he was ordered to his chambers where he promptly (accidentally) set his bedframe ablaze as well.

Free liked to tell the story to any newcomer knights as ‘preparation for keeping our young lord safe’, but it hadn’t been the only episode of Louis accidentally burning a part of their house out of anger or frustration.

He was less volatile now, his emotions more in check.

Or at least he _thought_ , until today.

Flopping onto the enormous bed, he held his hand in the air above his face. The red fur sat unassumingly, revealing no secrets.

Even when he’d been a wordless child, sitting in that damp, dark dungeon, he could feel the fire licking right under the surface. He had felt it slithering around his stomach, his head, his spine. His only companion in the darkness. He would often sit in the corner of his cold cell that smelled of piss and blood and wonder if he had been born with it or if it was just another torment his captors thrust upon him.

Dropping his forearm over his eyes, he sighed and willed himself to sleep.

He hoped he didn’t accidentally burn the castle down in the middle of the night. That’d be embarrassing.

* * *

Louis had not set the castle on fire, he found upon awakening.

Small mercies.

Not to say that his day continued to be as peacefully as his morning.

A cheer rang throughout the crowd as the ringing of metal against metal filled the open air. The afternoon sun warmed Louis's burgendy fur pleasntly, undeterred by any clouds for once.

Today was an informal preview for the grand tournament that was to be held near the end of the week. It was a way for the carnivore nobles, any newly appointed knights, or trembling novice squires to get their name out amongst Westeros’s nobility. Some fighters took the opportunity to showcase their talents, and some took it as an opportunity to be hired. Nobel families attended it to find new guards, like they were scrutinizing goods hanging up at a market stall.

Louis, nor his father, ever hired any animal from it. The lions they placed in their guard were chosen for their loyalty, upon recommendation from Ibuki himself, and not because their house had been the highest bidder. You had to be very particular when choosing who would be protecting your life, and if their main motivation was coin…well, that never ends well, does it?

So Louis suffered through the posing and displays of talent while at his side his father spoke with the families seated around them. Trade treaties and harvest quality, things Louis should have been paying attention to and learning. He would have to have the same conversations when he became the new Lord of his village after his father. But the drivel business talk wasn’t as entertaining as watching Bill knock every animal on their ass.

Bill was one of the very few carnivores in running for the throne. The Blood War had made carnivore-herbivore tensions in Westeros nigh unbearable. Westeros’s peace was unstable, teetering on the edge. The country was one judgmental statement away from the war restarting with a vengeance.

Very rarely were carnivores considered for leadership positions. They were feared. It was a widely known fact that the herbivores of the country were terrified of having a carnivore rule over them. At the same time, carnivores were bitter at the hoops they had to jump through to become anything more than a knight. It didn’t matter if their house had ruled for generations, the end of the war saw to it that almost every Lord ruling over a village was an herbivore.

The truce between them was precarious at the best of times.

Louis wasn’t even sure why Bill was still in the running. Perhaps Yafya saw something in the tiger that he didn’t. Still, as much as Bill liked to boast, Louis had to admit he wasn’t unkind to the herbivores around him.

Maybe Yafya thought having a kind carnivore ruler would change the minds of the country.

The crowd shouted as Bill defeated his challenger with a loud clang of sword against armor. The tiger whooped in victory and gave an exaggerated bow.

Or…maybe the King was just humoring him.

“Come on,” Bill shouted to the stands, “Who’s next!”

A gaggle of squires and freshly appointed knights shuffled, whispering to one another. Louis chuckled at one who threw their hands up in defeat and left. Louis had to admire the confidence Bill practically shone with. At least he thrived on the circumstances of his birth instead of hiding away from it.

Louis huffed in amusement, “You should give that cat some hard-earned competition, Ibuki.”

“You have no idea how much I would enjoy that, Young Lord, but I find his showing-off to the King quite amusing,” the lion chuckled from his seat beside him.

At the mention of the King, Louis had the urge to sneak a glance at the kingsguard he _knew_ was sitting next to Yafya, but quickly shoved it away in annoyance. If his hyperawareness of the wolf would cease, that would be great, but once again the gods deign to show him mercy.

A new contender finally stepped forward. His eyes were hidden under the hood of a brown cloak, but Louis could tell it was a jaguar based on the pattern of the spots on the animal's arms.

The crowd cheered at the continuation of the tournament. The jaguar chose a bow and arrow from the stand of weapons before stalking towards Bill.

“Ah! It’s always a pleasure to fight a fellow feline,” he shouted theatrically.

Louis turned to Ibuki again with a single raised eyebrow. Ibuki rolled his eyes.

“I’m not holding back, so you shouldn’t either. Show me your strength!” the tiger brandished his broadsword extravagantly.

At least Bill was enjoying himself, Louis thought.

The fight commenced, Bill charging in and the jaguar flitting out of range whenever he got too close. A battle of a long-range fighter trying to get enough distance from a close-range one to get a shot in. It was going to be a tedious fight.

With nothing to distract him, temptation pulled at Louis, tugging at his attention, whispering. He heard a soft, distant intake of breath. He couldn’t help it.

He let his eyes shift. King Yafya was turned away from the fight, speaking with a cassowary behind him. The wolf beside him was staring intently at the fight, eyes narrowed and leaning forward, seeming engorssed. 

Perhaps Legosi felt Louis’s eyes on him, because the wolf turned his face to look directly at him. Louis darted his eyes back to the fight before their gazes met, pretending to be engrossed in it.

The jaguar was still flitting about, staying out of Bill’s range. He notched an arrow and aimed. Louis absently thought about how his bow’s angle was way too off to hit Bill, when he realized it.

The jaguar’s aim was not off.

The feline let the arrow fly, past Bill’s shoulder.

The arrow sung in the air as it sailed over, right towards the King’s turned head.

Other animals noticed; screams filled the air. Louis shot out of his seat to…he didn’t know what, but he had to do something.

Then the sound of metal hitting flesh, a short, pained shout, and then blood dripping on the wooden stands.

Louis’s eyes widened as he saw the arrow not sticking out of the King’s head but pierced through Legosi’s forearm.

Ignoring whatever pain he was feeling, the wolf bared his teeth, the same teeth Louis had so casually traced his fingers over the past night. An electrifying feeling shot through Louis at the sight.

The wolf snapped the wooden shaft of the arrow and ripped the pieces out of his flesh with a growl. He leapt out of the stands and tackled the jaguar to the ground.

More screams, animals started running as the cassowary King Yafya had been conversing with unsheathed a sword and sliced towards the King’s head.

But Yafya was fast.

His sword drawn in seconds, the clang of metal against metal rang in the air as Yafya blocked and knocked the other animal’s sword away. Another swipe and the cassowary’s head was rolling off his body, skull hitting the wooden floor with a dull crack. Blood shot out of the bird’s severed carotid arteries before it too toppled over.

Louis stood, frozen, only now realizing that Ibuki had somehow shoved himself in front of Louis and his father.

“Lord Oguma, Louis, stay behind me.”

Louis didn’t answer, too busy staring at the sight before him. The King stood tall over the fallen corpse, his expression hard and contemplative. Louis’s eyes slid down, flowing a drop of dark blood as it slowly slid down the edge of Yafya’s blade. Truly _this_ was the Black Devil of the Blood War.

There was a yowl, and Louis turned to the arena and caught Bill and Legosi finishing tying the jaguar’s wrists together behind his back.

Louis sighed; a weight he didn’t even know existed lifted off his chest. Legosi lifted his head to meet his eye. Did the canine look…relieved?

“Lord Bill,” Yafya’s voice boomed across the open air, silencing the panicked crowd.

“Y-yes, Your Grace?” the tiger stuttered, eyes wide as the king addressed him.

“I thank you for your assistance. Please allow Legosi and my other guards deal with this traitor.”

On que, two other armored figures appeared into the arena. They took the still struggling jaguar form Bill and Legosi’s arms and carried him away. Legosi made to follow but paused when Bill offered him a pristine white handkerchief.

“For your arm,” Louis heard the cat say.

Legosi gave an appreciative nod. The white cloth quickly turned scarlet as he wrapped it around the leaking wound and followed the guards out. Louis’s stomach felt tight at the amount of red that the makeshift bandage had soaked in. He tried not to dwell on the feeling.

“Everyone, I apologize greatly for this disturbance,” Yafya turned, handed his bloodied sword to an attendant of his, and faced the crowd. “I advise that everyone go back to their rooms while we figure out the meaning behind this attack. My knights will be patrolling the hallways, please call for them if you require any assistance whatsoever.”

And with that, Yafya made his leave, his dark purple cloak flaring behind him like a vengeful spirit.

The guests, Louis and his father included, did as they were told and made their way across the fields just inside the castle’s walls, back towards the imposingly tall structure of the Red Keep. The aura of fear and suspicion was heavy in the humid sea air of the capital. Passing by, he heard a kudu whispering to an agouti about posting herbivore only guards at their doors. A young buffalo calf was pulled away from Ibuki by her mother as they passed. Animal glared at other animals, everyone waiting for one out-of-place action. Louis felt claustrophobic in the stifling, tense atmosphere of the crowd.

He was incredibly relieved upon reaching his room. The rest of the guests passed them by or turned down different corridors, until only Ibuki and his father remained.

“I’m taking Ibuki to my room for a moment. We are debating calling for more of our guards to travel here. I have a bad feeling about what happened today. Yafya’s security is usually too tight for this sort of thing to happen,” His father’s brows were furrowed, arms crossed as he drummed his fingers against his forearm.

“Will you be alright by yourself?” Oguma asked, a hint of concern sliding out under the dignified steadiness of his voice.

“Of course, Father.”

It was no lie. Louis had never felt vulnerable being on his lonesome. He had survived it for years before he was rescued from his captivity and became the Young Lord of his village. Louis was well versed in being alone.

Oguma looked down at his son like he didn’t believe him, but whatever protests he wanted to give were let go.

The older stag placed a firm hand on Louis’s shoulder. The closest to a hug Louis ever got. Oguma nodded at him.

“I’ll send Ibuki to you after we are done,” was his parting words as the two older males continued their way down the corridor.

Louis sighed as the weight of the sudden turn of events settled on his shoulders. In his room, a platter with dinner had already been placed on a table in the corner of his room. He grimaced, his stomach clenching at the thought of eating through the heavy feeling that had draped over the castle.

He tried to distract himself by sitting at the window and reading a random book he snatched from the room’s bookshelf. But as thrilling as “Wild Plants of Southern Westeros and Their Uses” was, he found he couldn’t concentrate.

The heaviness followed him though the room as he tossed the book away and changed into his night clothes.

Louis sighed, flung himself face down on the bed, and tried not to think about the sound of the cassowary’s head hitting wooden floorboards or the bloodied arrow sticking out of grey fur.

* * *

Legosi burst through the door to Yafya’s room, chest heaving from the running up numerous flights of stairs from the dungeons. The attack at the arena had not shaken him. He fulfilled his duty, Yafya was safe, but he felt something looming about the castle, a strange tint to the air. He felt restless and jumpy throughout their ‘investigation’ of the attackers. He had a bad feeling.

The King was silhouetted by the pinkening sunset shining through the windows behind his desk. Legosi couldn’t see his eyes past the light as the horse turned away from the papers that lay on the wooden desk, startled, “What did you find?”

“It’s magic,” Legosi’s hands clenched and unclenched at his side.

Yafya’s face hardened, “Do you know what kind?”

The horse motioned for Legosi to shut the door. The wolf ignored the concerned looks of the guards stationed outside of the King’s office as he did so.

Quieter, but still concerned, he answered, “It’s shadow magic. I felt it last night, during dinner, but it vanished before I could feel out what kind it had been. But this…Yafya the jaguar that attacked you wasn’t even alive. He didn’t have a pulse but at the same time he was yelling and struggling against us.”

“Were there any runes on him?”

“Just one,” Legosi’s ears folded back as he thought of the dark symbol on the cat’s forehead, of the black tendrilled veins flowing out from dark purple eyes. “I don’t recognize it though. It wasn’t drawn or burned, it looked…black, like the skin festered and turned necrotic.”

Legosi grabbed a quill and a clean piece of paper that didn’t look important. He hastily scribbled the shape he had seen.

Yafya’s eyes widened at the sign. Then his brows furrowed and he brushed a hand over the drawing, “You don’t recognize it because they’re very ancient. And they’re two runes on top of one another.”

His fingers traced the larger symbol, curved with many sharp angles branching off, “This is ‘animal’. The individual strokes around it means ‘ash’. This is bad. I’ve seen this kind of sorcery only once before.”

“When?”

Yafya opened his mouth to explain but was cut off by a distant rumble. The two animals stood stock still as they felt the floor vibrate under their feet. The rumble was followed by another one, closer and louder. Legosi smelled fire and smoke. Explosions.

The King cursed loudly and ran to open the door.

“Go to the cellars, check for intruders. Grab any men you pass by on the way there and take them with you,” he demanded to the guards outside. “Go, _now_!”

Legosi felt his hackles rise at the urgency, “I’ll go too-“

“No!” the horse’s voice held a hint of panic that had Legosi’s eyes widening.

Yafya was an immovable, undaunted force. He did not show fear. So now…what was it that was causing the slight tremble in the King’s hands?

Still, past the edge of fear Legosi saw in Yafya’s eyes, the King started pulling his armor off their stands. He dressed hastily, yanking the straps that held his chest plate tight. Legosi snapped out of his shock and ran to help secure the trickier areas of the armor.

“Listen, Legosi. Someone has infiltrated this castle. Someone very powerful,” Yafya’s voice did not shake. He strapped his sword to his side and hid daggers in the various crannies of his armor.

“You know who it is? How?” Legosi asked.

“His magic. It’s very unique to him. You can feel it, can’t you? With your gift?”

Legosi nodded, he could feel it when the jaguar had appeared in front of Lord Bill in the fighting arena. But now it was stronger, more pungent. Its essence had intensified from singed fur and sulfur to cooked flesh and decay.

He _knew_ he had felt it, that previous night during the feast. His venture through the castle to pick it out ended with him empty-handed. He hadn't found a single thing out of place, not the tiniest hint of magic. Exept, of course, Lord Louis. The ferocity of the herbivore's magic upon their confrontation had been neigh suffocating. He had spent the rest of that night with an aftertaste of spice and smoke, where the deer's hand had carressed his mouth. Perhaps the intensity of it had clouded his senses against any other magical auras that had been roaming the castle that evening.

Even now, he could pick out the lingering tingle of spice on his tongue.

The last of the armor in place, Yafya turned and put a steady hand on Legosi’s shoulder. The horse tightened his grip. Legosi gasped in surprise as he was pulled into a tight hug. The wolf lifted his hands, halfway to returning it, unsure of the reason for the uncharacteristic display of affection from the older male.

“This animal…you need to stay away from him. Do _not_ let yourself come into contact with him. No matter what.”

“But Uncle Yafya-”

“Promise me, Legosi,” Yafya pleaded.

Legosi let his hands reach up the rest of the way, awkwardly patting the king’s back, “O-okay, yeah. I’ll stay away.”

Legosi felt some of Yafya’s tension leave. He pushed the canine out of the hug, but kept firm hands on his shoulders.

“Good. Now listen closely. There’s something very important you need to do.”

* * *

_A plunging feeling in his stomach from a fall. Then cold._

_The water around him muffled all sound. It was silent but for his grunt and the bubbling of his submerged flailing._

_The frigid water was suffocating._

_He swam towards the surface, but his outstretched hands met resistance._

_He banged on the sheet of ice, smooth and unyielding. It taunted him with the crystal clear view of the surface on the other side._

_There was no air, his lungs were burning. He had to get out._

_The water bubbled under the heat of his hands._

_Let me out._

_Predatory eyes on the other side of the ice._

_**Let me out!** _

Louis gasped awake, clutching at the too-large comforter on his too-large bed.

He quickly brought his hands up to his face in a panic. Seeing no hint of his magic or fire, he sighed in relief. His emotions had been so tumultuous since he arrived at King’s Landing, he couldn’t be sure.

But, if not him…then where was that burning smell coming from?

Moments later, the screaming started.


	3. Pyre

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This is where the "graphic depictions of violence" starts.
> 
> You guys, no joke, writing fight scenes is MUCH harder than I thought it would be! I was internally screaming while writing half of this chapter lol. Please feel free to offer any constructive criticism while reading this chapter (or any chapter for that matter), as I'd like to get better at it!
> 
> Once again a HUGE thank you to everyone following this story! I appreciate all the support and I hope you enjoy the chapter!

Legosi felt more and more rumbles under his feet as he rushed through the castle. Yafya had already split off from his side, going down to where he’d sent the guards, ready to fight for his home.

Legosi whined. His heart was screaming at him to go down and help, but Yafya gave him orders and he had to trust that the equid knew what was best to protect everyone involved, even him.

The soles of his boots skidded as he almost passed up the staircase he was looking for. He sped down the flights, down multiple levels of the mountainous castle. The only detour he had made was to his chambers to grab his sword. There was no time to grab anything else.

Turning the corner to go down another flight, something slammed into his stomach. He was thrown backwards into the hard wall, the breath forced out of his lungs, and just barely ducked in time to avoid getting his head sliced open by a set of claws.

He growled and rolled to gain some distance. A striped hyena stood before him, hands and mouth already smeared red with blood.

Legosi bared his teeth at the other animal, hackles raised, and ears erect.

“Move,” he ordered.

The hyena just stared, panting.

There was a well-known hidden language between carnivores. The appropriate body language along with showing one’s teeth was an unmistakable sign of challenge, and usually the response would be to either challenge in turn or submit if they wanted to avoid a fight.

But this animal didn’t react at all to Legosi’s bared fangs at all. He seemed dazed; his eyes a dark purple and empty. It was like the jaguar’s had been down in the dungeons. There was no rune on this animal’s head, but when Legosi sniffed the air the grotesque smell of decay stung his nasal passages.

When the hyena opened its mouth, it didn’t speak, it shrieked.

Legosi drew his arakh as the animal charged him again.

Legosi swiped the curved blade through the air. The point pierced effortlessly through the hyena’s chest. The other animal yelped and grabbed at the blade, slicing his palms open.

Legosi would never say that he had gotten used to the squelch of flesh parting, the snap of his blade fracturing bones, butsomething in him always purred at the violence.

_Yes, yes, this was what you were meant for._

Legosi shoved the thought into a box in the back of his subconscious, like always.

He withdrew the blade, blood splattering on the floor between them, expecting the hyena to drop dead. 

But the creature only screeched again and lunged.

Legosi’s eyes widened and he sucked in a breath to brace himself.

The wolf grunted as the stockier animal dug his claws into Legosi’s shoulders. The claws on the hyena’s feet scraped against his armor, trying to eviscerate him. 

He leaned back to avoid a bone-crushing bite to his skull, and the both of them toppled back onto the floor. He dropped his blade to get leverage against the writhing animal above him.

Teeth snapped inches from his face as he held the hyena’s head at bay with his hands. Legosi winced in disgust when a mixture of blood and saliva dripped into his muzzle. They were a mass of growls and snarls as each tried to get the upper hand.

Legosi leaned forward with his only free weapons, his teeth, and bit the hyena’s face. The other animal’s screaming yowl echoed. Legosi tasted one of the animal’s eyes burst under his teeth. He used the distraction to kick the animal off.

Backing away on all fours, he scrabbled for his blade. While the animal scratched at it’s own face in pain. Tearing. Screaming.

Legosi swiped the point of his blade through the hyena’s spine.

It dropped motionless.

Legosi panted as he stood and stared at the animal, waiting.

A few moments later, the hyena’s head moved and growled.

“What _are_ you?” Legosi muttered into the air in disbelief.

He didn’t expect an answer.

The wolf couldn’t spend any more time on the paralyzed animal. He could hear more fighting below them. He could hear innocent people screaming.

Ignoring his baser instincts to finish the job, he turned and continued down the stairway. The hyena’s laughing bark followed him down.

One flight…two…three...Here!

Leaping down the last few stair, Legosi flew through the doorway and into the halls.

It was a warzone.

Guards and the spell-bound animal clashing. Women screaming. The choked-off gargles of dying animals. There were holes in the walls and chunks of stone on the floor from explosions. The smell of quicklime and pine resin from the detonationsburned past the sour tang of fresh blood.

Legosi was so hyper-aware of the devastation that he didn’t notice the punch aimed at the back of his head until it was too late. 

His head snapped forward and stars danced behind his eyelids. He skittered away, and felt the wind of another punch as it narrowly missed him.

Blinking away the pained mistiness in his eyes, he brought his sword up and slashed. The crocodile assailant bled from the blow, but stood strong like the hyena before him.

A dagger appeared from above and was thrust right between the reptile’s eyes. It went down heavily. Legosi barked a short, surprised laugh when he saw who had aided him.

“P-Pina?”

The sheep’s pristine fur was splattered with blood. There were claw marks raking down one forearm. He was visibly trembling as he stood on the fallen enemy, but his eyes were ablaze.

“What are you doing here!” Legosi demanded.

“You’re welcome, you dumb dog,” Pina retorted in a shaky voice. He ran to Legosi and grabbed onto his shirt desperately. His eyes darted around them in a panic. 

“And what does it look like I’m doing? I’m trying not to get killed!”

“Pina, you need to get out – “

Legosi forced Pina’s head down and slashed a meerkat in half as it lunged through the air towards the sheep. Blood and viscera rained down on the poor herbivore’s head. He grabbed Pina’s hand and ran.

“Come on!”

“Hey, wait, where are we going?”

Stopping in one place was dangerous, and he had a destination to get to. The onslaught of non-dead animals seemed to be endless. He tried not to look at the dead knights that littered the hallways, the half-devoured bodies of animals he didn’t know, oh Mother even _children_ lay in pools of their own blood.

“There’s escape tunnels, meant for royalty. They lead down under the castle to the edge of the Bay. I’ll show y-”

Legosi shoved Pina to the side as he blocked the swing of a broadsword from a dead-eyed rhinoceros. So, it wasn’t _just_ carnivores they were fighting against. Legosi didn’t know if that was a good or bad development.

He deflected the blade with the curve of his arakh. He caught a glimpse of the bottom of a rune peaking out from under the rhino’s sleeve as he ducked past the bulky herbivore. He grabbed Pina and continued running.

“What about you?”

“I have to find Louis of House Elaphus. Do you know where he is?”

“ _That_ bastard? Why are you looking for _him_?”

They ran into an emptier, darker hallway, the sounds of the battle fading.

Legosi stopped in front of a floor-to-ceiling painting: a young lamb sipping tea in a field of purple nightshade. 

He ran his fingers over the wooden frame before he found the indistinct latch. The portrait popped open with a soft click, revealing a staircase sharply descending down, down, down.

He sighed and turned to Pina. In the dim light, he could see the fear that lay in the sheep’s eyes. 

“Grab any animal nearby and lead them there. Then get yourself out of the city.”

“Legosi, you’re not seriously going back into… _that_ , are you?” Pina asked softly.

Legosi gave him a soft smile, “I have to.”

Pina stared at him hard. 

The sheep sighed, shoulders drooping.

“Louis’s room is thirteen doors down, on the right. The one on the corner with the window nook.”

“Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah. I don’t like owing anyone any debts, so you better make it out of here so I can repay you.”

Legosi saw through Pina’s false flippancy like it was glass. He smiled before turning back.

He had a deer to find.

* * *

The first thing Louis did was look for a weapon. Eyes darting around his room, he settled on grabbing the knife that lay on his still-full dinner platter. It wasn’t going to win him any tournaments, but it was better than nothing.

He burst through the door and right into the sights of a coyote gnawing on a severed arm.

The canid’s eyes were a deep purple, so dark it seemed to swallow up any light. The animal tipped his head back, swallowing the rest of the arm whole.

Licking its lips, it set its eyes on Louis.

_Oh fuck._

Louis sprinted down the hallway, hearing the coyote following close behind.

What was going on? What had happened while he was asleep? Oh gods, was that the youngest daughter of House Dendrolagus lying next to that broken vase? Where were the guards? Blood, blood, why was there so much blood?

The coyote made a sound, like a drawn-out howl but too high pitched. It was gaining on him.

He had to find Ibuki. He had to find his Father. His room wasn’t too far down the hall. He just had to -

His bare foot slipped on a partially-coagulated pool of blood. He winced as his ankle turned much sharper than normal. He landed heavily on his shoulder

It was enough of a blunder to give the coyote the upper hand.

The carnivore pinned him on his back, snarling.

Louis bared his blunt teeth back at him.

He’d been brought into the is world with the purpose of dying, that was his truth, but fuck it if he wasn’t going draw some blood first.

Louis rammed his head forward. The feeling of his antlers piercing the canine’s face sent gratifying vibrations shooting down his skull.

The coyote yelped, jumping back.

Louis tightened his grip on his knife and held it in front of him. If he was lucky, maybe he could make the coyote would bleed out on the floor with him.

Then the coyote went _flying_.

And Louis found himself facing the back of a certain grey wolf.

The following fight was quick, grey and tan swiping at each other in a frenzy.

Herbivore instincts usually take one of three routes when faced with danger: Flee, fight, or freeze.

Louis’s body conveniently decided to freeze at the sight of the wolf, whose mouth he had willingly shoved his hand into, rip a chunk of flesh out of the coyote’s neck.

When the coyote lay on the floor (still moving, why was that thing still moving?), the wolf faced him

He held out a bloodied hand towards Louis.

“Lord Louis, I’m here to help you.”

Louis shifted his gaze from the wolf’s blood-covered muzzle to the offered hand and back up again.

He slapped the hand away harshly.

“ _You_ , you’re a part of this, aren’t you?” he accused.

The wolf looked taken aback at the statement,“What? No! Of course I’m not-“

“You expect me to believe that? I suppose this attack and you being at the festival were mere coincidences, right?”

The wolf glared, “I am _not_ a traitor.”

“I don’t believe you. And if you think I’m just going to lay down and let you kill me, you’re denser than I thought.” 

He held his knife before him. It must look ridiculous to an outsider, a desperate last attempt at fighting for his life: a lanky red deer brandishing a three inch blade against an enormous wolf with his barbaric arakh. What a sight that must be.

The wolf stared at him, eyes calculating. Louis glared back at him defiantly.

He tensed when the wolf lifted his ominous, dark blade. This was it…

And was dumbstruck when the wolf twirled the blade around, offering Louis the hilt, and knelt on one knee.

“I know I am asking a lot of your faith right now, but the truth is you will not be able to get out of this place alive by yourself. I offer my services on behalf of King Yafya, First of his name, ruler of the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros. I swear on my name and his that I _will_ _not_ harm you. Once my duty has been fulfilled, you may do whatever you may see fit with me. Exile me, execute me, send me into servitude, whatever it is you want, but I have been charged with getting you out of this castle safely, and that is something I _will_ do.”

The wolf’s posture was utterly that of a submissive one: ears swiveled back, eyes cast on the ground, there was even a tilt to his head that exposed his neck.

Louis was still suspicious, still reluctant to accept this animal’s offer for help. However, as he looked around at the carnage that plagued the halls, there really was no other option for Louis except to die fighting. And he wasn’t quite ready for that yet.

On the small chance the wolf was telling the truth, Louis could make it out of here.

Besides, there was something in Legosi’s speech, perhaps the unmistakable offering of his life, that made his resolve against the wolf falter.

Hesitantly, he grabbed the handle of the offered arakh.

“Don’t make me regret this.”

The wolf perked up, “I won’t!”

Louis observed the blade in his hand as Legosi stood up. It wasn’t as large in his grasp as he expected it to be, although it was a bit heavier than the blades he was used to sparing with. The half-moon curve of the blade made him feel off-kilter as it leaned to one side.

“Before I go anywhere, I need to find my father.”

“Um, I’m not sure we have time for that, My Lord.”

“I’m not leaving here without him,” Louis’s eyes narrowed.

Legosi looked like he wanted to protest. Louis stood firm though.

The dog let out a small whine, “Fine, where to?”

Louis nodded down the way he had been heading. His ankle twinged a bit from his fall, but he pushed through it as he and the wolf made their way side by side.

He stared incredulously at the enigma of the animal beside him during their hasty trek.

His fighting was filled with ferocity, but the way he held himself around other animals was such a complete turn around that Louis couldn’t tell which was the true Legosi and which was an act.

Louis always saw the world as it was: Herbivores were weak, carnivores were strong. Herbivores lived in fear, carnivores lived in self-repression. The only reason carnivores worked with herbivores was the fact that the herbivores had sheer numbers on their side.

So, it was a struggle for Louis to try to figure out how Legosi’s strength could be so great and yet his face was so gentle, so expressive. How could he cut down an animal so easily and yet gain the trust of some of the weakest herbivores?

Louis didn’t know the answer yet, but he was going to get to the bottom of it.

A lion with a golden mane appeared from around the corner, cutting through Louis’s musings. The feline had the same purple eyes that the coyote had and a strange symbol on the side of his neck.

Legosi grabbed his arm and Louis was harshly yanked behind the wolf as the lion swung a long sword.

The blade descended, aiming for Legosi’s head, but he dodged backwards on light feet. The canine placed his hands on the flat of the sword for leverage and kicked the lion’s jaw. Louis herd the clack of the feline’s teeth ramming together in his jaws.

Legosi didn't wast any time as he followed it up with a fist to the stomach.

The lion roared and swung an arm, flinging Legosi through the air in a clear display of strength.

Legosi skidded across the floor, his claws halting his momentum. The sound grated Louis’s ears.

Legosi quickly erased the distance. He swiped his claws against the lion’s hands, causing the feline to drop the sword.

The lion swung his arm out again, but Legosi dodged and practically pranced out of range.

The lion, now unarmed, snarled and charged at Legosi. The wolf charged as well. The sound their bodies made when they clashed was like thunder.

The larger mass of the lion sent Legosi sprawled out onto the floor. He brought an arm up as large teeth came down towards his neck. Louis heard Legosi grunt as the lion bit down on his bandaged forearm, tearing the arrow wound back open and then some.

Legosi growled and pulled at the mane with his other hand, fighting against the force threatening to snap the bones in his arm.

Louis watched the stalemate, both animals growling and struggling. There were only a few seconds before something gave: The lion’s jaw strength or Legosi’s arm. The outcome was pretty obvious.

And Louis may not know the wolf’s true intentions, but he knew he had a better chance staying alive with him than with a bloodthirsty lion.

Looking around frantically, he spied a dead knight with a bow at his side. He rushed to it. The quiver only had two arrows left.

No problem. He was more adept at archery anyway. He placed Legosi’s sword on the floor and grabbed for the lighter weapon.

He notched the arrow and aimed. Louis took a deep breath. He trained one eye along the line of the arrow’s wooden shaft. The feathers at the end tickled against his nose as he aimed.

The twang of the released bowstring and the _fwip_ of the arrow soaring through the air were just as satisfying as the sound of it piercing the lion’s neck, right on the edge of the dark symbol.

The lion fell off of Legosi with a wet, choking gurgle.

Louis preened under the full-blown look of surprise on Legosi’s face.

The wolf turned to him with wide eyes, “You know how to shoot a bow?”

“No all herbivores are slaves to their instincts.”

The wolf looked impressed.

Louis switched the bow back out for the arakh, the blade felt a bit ligher after the strain of pulling the bowstring back.

“Let’s continue.”

The wolf didn’t hestitate to stand and follow him.

It wasn’t long before they happened upon another, friendlier lion standing over a figure sitting against the wall.

“Ibuki!” 

Relief washed over Louis at the familiar sight.

“Louis, are you alright?” Ibuki replied, all formality lost at the sight his other charge.

Louis raced the distance to them, he spied his father sitting next to a blown-out hole in the wall cradling one of his arms.

There was a large wooden pillar on the opposite wall that was leaning at a precariously awkward curve against the ruined structure of the corridor.

Maybe it was his added footsteps, maybe it was some unrelated battle on the floor above, but as Louis neared his family, he heard a rumble.

The ceiling held perpendicular to the hole groaned.

A stone moved.

“Wait!”

“Louis!”

Louis choked when someone grabbed the collar of his shirt and yanked him backwards, just in time to avoid getting crushed by the ceiling caving in.

Louis blocked his face with is arm, feeling the points of sharp, small stone fly scratch his skin from the cave-in.

When the dust cleared, a wall of large stone lay between him and his family.

“Ibuki! Father!?” he yelled, bracing his hands on the stone.

There was coughing, but a calm voice said, “We’re alright.”

Louis exhaled a relieved breath. He moved along the barricade, to a small hole made between the broken stone and a now splintered wooden pillar.

He saw Ibuki helping his father to his feet, and he couldn’t help but fret at the bleeding head wound his father adorned.

“Don’t worry,” he called through, “I’ll get you out.”

He looked at the rocks, trying to find the best place to start digging through.

“Louis,” his father’s voice brought him back to opening, “you need to leave. Let Legosi get you out of the castle. Let him help you get home.”

“I’m not leaving you!”

“Ibuki and I will find another exit, but the longer you stay here, the higher the chance of the both of you dying.”

“And the same cannot be said for the both of you?”

“We’re not the one the animal behind this is after.”

Louis’s eyes widened.

“I’ll explain later, but for now you need to get out.” Oguma urged. “Legosi knows the way, don't you?”

The wolf straightened, clearly not expecting to be addressed, “Oh! Y-yes My Lord.”

Oguma looked him in the eye, “Take good care of my son. He can be a handful.”

Ibuki smiled at Louis.

“Don’t you worry, Louis. I’ll get your father home safely.” His eyes shifted to Legosi, “Aim for the head, that or those symbols on their body. They seem to stay down best with those.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the wolf nod.

Louis took one last look at his father, but Oguma didn’t look afraid. The older stag sent him a reassuring smile.

“Go. Ibuki and I will be right behind you,”

He didn’t want to. He _really_ didn’t want to.

Louis swallowed his doubts down, “I’ll hold you to that promise, old man.”

Louis’s grip on Legosi’s sword tightened painfully as he backed away from the rocks.

He motioned for the wolf to follow, and they continued on. Louis dared not look back as they ran.

Legosi led the way to what he claimed to be a secret escape route. As hey made their way, the hallways became more and more quiet. It wasn’t a reassuring quiet, it was ominous. Louis couldn’t help but feel that this was a battle that they had lost.

The wolf before him was steady and solemn. He seemed to be feeling the same. He quickly took care of any straggling enemies, those who could still attack at least.

More than once, Louis had to dodge the hand of a dark-eyed carnivore that was still moving on the ground. His muzzle wrinkled in disgust at the sight of a mongoose, sliced clean in half, as it tried to drag the front portion of it’s body after them, entrails dragging behind it.

“We’re getting close,” Legosi said as they turned a corner.

But a sight stopped them both dead in their tracks.

A collage of white and red.

Body prone on the ground, reaching for escape.

Louis’s stomach dropped.

Tem’s body was unmistakable.

Louis’s mouth formed a tight line, anger and sadness mingling.

The blood, the half-devoured intestines stretched out on the floor, the ragged tears through skin and muscle. The rigor mortis preserved the fear on Tem’s face. The fear he’d felt as he died.

Louis looked away.

He observed his companion. Legosi’s ears were pinned flat against his skull. The canine stared with clenched fists at the body- at Tem. Legosi closed his eyes, brows knit in sorrow and pain.

It wasn’t a fake reaction. It wasn’t a reaction of an enemy bent on betrayal and victory.

There was an ache in his chest. Louis signed.

He reached out and pressed the handle of the arakh into the palm of the wolf’s hand.

“Come on, we need to keep going.”

Legosi opened his eyes. They were watery, but his gaze was hard. He nodded.

The rest of their trip was silent.

It was silent through the hall, silent when they found the secret route hidden behind the painting, silent as they went down the steep set of winding stairs in the hidden passage. 

The silence only broke at the sound of the waves hitting the rocky shore that fed into the mouth of the escape tunnel. 

It felt like a dirge for the coffin that had been made of the castle.

The distant orange glow that reflected off Blackwater Bay told him that the civillian portion of King’s Landing hadn’t fared any better in the attack. 

They trudged along the shore, keeping their eyes out for hiding places should they find any more unsavory encounters.

“Where to?” the wolf asked as he looked down at the edge of the bay.

It was a portion they couldn’t pass around on land, the castle walls extending into the water. The wolf jumped from the rocky outcrop he’d been perched on and into the chilled water. He tuned back and held out a hand to Louis to help him down. 

He took it and hopped in after him. The water was up to his waist and freezing. 

Louis looked out at arching, irregular shape of the dense woods that lay before then. Their forms darkened as the sun went further and further behind the horizon. 

Louis crossed his arms against a chill that was brought on by more than the just the cold water.

“Southeast. On the other side of Kingswood Forest.”

The wolf flicked an ear and looked back at him, “Your home?”

Louis nodded, the waves sloshed across their forms as they waded through the bay to the other side.

“Willowrend.”

* * *

Yafya felt his injuries jar as he was unceremoniously thrown onto the cold marble floor with a heavy thud. Despite the pain flaring up the slash wound on his side, despite the concussion he was sure he had, despite the blood dripping into a slick puddle below him, the King tried to lift himself up. He was quickly slammed back down my multiple heavy hands.

The animals holding him did not speak. Their hands were icy, and their thousand-yard stare never ending, looking right at him but not seeing. Dark veins struck outwards from their eyes like lighting. They were like Legosi had described: dead, but still moving.

Yafya resisted groaning at the pain he was in. Blood from his head wound was dripping into one of his eyes. He was sure he had some broken ribs alongside the laceration on his side. His entire body throbbed, it hurt to breathe. It wasn’t the worst injuries he’s endured, but it was enough for the enemy to overpower him.

The throne room was in just as bad a state. The windows overseeing King’s Landing were smashed, the glass pieces shone like embers in the light of the civilian’s burning homes. The smell of smoke permeated the air. The throne room, so lively and warm just days ago, sat ashen cold in the wake of the attack.

As Yafya lay pinned, the tatters of his house’s banners singed and crumpled on the floor around him, he entered.

With lithe footsteps, worn boots tapping rhythmically against the floor, a golden form with crooked horns stepped past Yafya and approached the throne.

“I must say, you have impeccable taste, Your Majesty,” clawed hands caressed the arms of unblemished bronze chair.

The form twirled around and settled himself int the king’s chair. He crossed his legs and sighed contently as he looked out over the empty throne room. His tip of his tuffed tail waved lazily at his side.

“Ah, yes. Beautiful. One could get accustomed to this quite easily!”

Yafya huffed from his position on the floor, “Only the most extravagant of seats for a king, right?”

The animal laughed, “Oh, I wasn’t talking about your precious throne.”

Lips peeled back to reveal pointed feline fangs. The animal…the hybrid smiled widely and leaned forward.

“I meant having the most powerful animal in all the realm on the floor in front of me. At my mercy.”

Yafya narrowed his eyes, “I thought you dead. A sword to the heart usually does that.”

The animal casually examined the claws of one hand, like the horse before him was nothing more than an unruly peasant.

“Oh yes, you _thought_ , but in your arrogance, you never made _sure_ , did you? You need to work on your aim, Your Majesty.”

A stab to his pride, the animal sure know how to get under Yafya’s skin.

“What do you want, Melon?”

The creature smirked and threw his arms out.

“What I’ve always wanted, Yafya. To knock you down off your, dare I say, high horse,” Melon chuckled mirthlessly at his own joke, “and to share my experiences with the world. And, like me, I want to watch it BURN.”

He growled out the last word and Yafya listened to it echo across the enormous room.

“You tried once. I stopped you.”

“You stopped me because I didn’t have the resources or the information I have now.” 

Melon stood up from the throne and strode forward, hands clasped behind his back.

The hybrid’s feet stopped just short of the end of Yafya’s nose, and the horse knew Melon was relishing being able to look down on his fallen form. A hand reached out and swiped the burnished, metal crown from his head.

“You’ve grown soft in your years of peace and prosperity,” Melon turned the crown in his hands, examining the gemstones and woven design of the metal. “While you hole up in your castle, sipping fine wine and entertaining guests, you’ve cut yourself off from the gossips and gnashing teeth of those you preside over.”

The hybrid stalked to the broken windows, glass crunching under his feet. He paused, looking up from the crown and surveying his work upon the city.

There was a snap of fingers, and a moment later a large grizzly bear, not like the animals above him, this one was _alive_ , lumbered to his side.

“We’ve lost some of our friends, Riz,” Melon said. “Bring me all the…useful corpses you can find so I can make us some more.”

“Yes,” was all the hulking bear said before he turned and left the throne room.

Yafya wondered how many of his subjects had been slaughtered tonight. So many were holed up in the upper floors of his castle. It must have been like shooting fish in a barrel. How many of his loyal guards had died defending him? How many of those under his servitude who hadn’t an inkling of combat experience? Yafya felt a pang of sorrow and anger for the innocent lives needlessly lost.

He had no doubt though, that Legosi had fulfilled his orders.

Yafya would be long dead otherwise.

“Fire is such a lovely creature, don’t you think?” he heard Melon utter from his place by the windows. “Neither dead nor alive. It does not fear or love or think. It takes all with no prejudice and no regret. As free and feared as the New and Old Gods. In its own way, it is omnipotent. A deity in and of itself.”

The hybrid reeled his arm back and flung the crown out the window, where it sailed into the firelit night before falling from view.

“Now,” Melon twirled from the blazing city and approached Yafya, “since our small talk is out of the way…”

A clawed hand gripped at Yafya’s mane, and he hissed at the stinging pull. Melon angled the fallen king’s head up to meet his conniving, rapacious eyes. The hybrid’s next words came out as a snarl.

“ _Where is he?”_


	4. Fanning the Flames

Louis’s breathing was heavy as they continued hastily through the woods.

Though it was spring, the chill of Westeros’s nightly temperatures sent harsh waves of shivers through his body. His fur was still damp from their impromptu trek through the bay. The flimsy cloth tunic and pants that once served as his nightclothes were not doing him any favors against the nighttime breeze.

The moon was only the barest sliver in the sky, so he could barely see where he was going. He could see enough to save himself from walking face-first into a tree, but making out the nuances of the forest floor was hopeless. To keep from getting lost, he trained his ears intently on the heavy footsteps of the wolf in front of him.

How long had they been walking? Was his father and Ibuki alright? Did they find the King? Was the King even alive?

The adrenaline was finally leaving him, but the events of the previous hours played over and over in Louis’s mind, never-ending like a maelstrom.

And here he was, running away. Running with nothing but a kitchen knife and a foreign wolf at his side.

Louis felt shame bubble up past his worry. Some kingly material he was.

The wolf before him stopped, and Louis followed suit. The deer heard a rustle of clothing, and almost jumped when Legosi put something in his hands.

“Here, put this on.”

Louis felt the fabric with his fingers. It was the wolf’s padded armor vest.

Louis furrowed his brows, “Why?”

“We’ve run a good distance, but the animals who attacked the castle could still catch your scent. Wolf smell is stronger than deer smell, so my armor should help throw off anyone that might be tracking us.”

Louis hummed.

“Also, um…I can hear your teeth chattering.”

Louis gripped the clothing, a bit resentful at the wolf’s heightened senses. However, it _was_ a good idea to lose anyone coming after them. He didn’t know why Legosi was going to such lengths to protect him, though. Especially considering his actions from the previous night.

He sighed and begrudgingly put the armor on. The fabric was a bit big and still warm from Legosi’s body heat. Louis allowed himself find some relief in it.

It smelled musky and natural, but not in a bad way. Like freshly dampened earth after a rain shower.

“Aren’t you cold?” he asked, realizing his companion was now bare chested against the night.

“I’m alright,” came the relaxed reply.

Right. Grey wolf.

Perhaps he _had_ spent some time north of The Wall. He definitely didn’t sound cold, so it was no skin off Louis’s nose.

They continued in silence, the dead leaves and twigs cracked under their feet. Louis winced as a stepped on a particularly sharp stick. He really wished he had thought to put his boots on before he had left his room.

Louis stumbled over a tree root he didn’t see but caught himself before he fell.

Legosi paused at his misstep, but kept moving when Louis recovered.

Fucking carnivores and their fucking night vision.

“Why did you save me? Why help me escape? Shouldn’t you have stayed behind to protect the city?”

Louis could almost feel the slump of the canine’s shoulders in the night.

“The King told me to get you out safely, to protect you. And I do what my King orders.”

He paused for a moment, perplexed.

“Wait. _King Yafya_ told to protect me? _Why_?” he whispered into the darkness.

A pause, then a whisper back, “I don’t know.”

Their silence was somber after that.

Louis pondered their predicament. Sure, his father said that whatever animal led the attack had wanted him, but for what? How could he have been sure of that? Maybe there were circulating rumors that Oguma kept from him?

His mind continued to go in circles, thinking of all the events that happened during the festival, all the whispers he ‘accidentally’ listened in on. Nothing he remembered hinted at any resentment towards him. At least none that would lead to an attack of that scale.

He stubbed his foot on a rock and hissed, not able to catch himself on his feet this go around. He reached out and grabbed something soft and thick to stabilize himself.

A loud yelp cut through the air and his anchor pulled away sharply.

Louis grunted as he landed on the ground on his already bruised shoulder. That’s it, he was done with the night.

Louis heard the wolf scrambling in the dead leaves, “Sorry! I’m so sorry, My Lord. You startled me is all!”

“What the fuck was that -” there was an uncomfortable wetness on his hands, he brought it up to his nose and jerked away at the smell of iron.

“Is your arm still bleeding from that bite?” he asked.

Legosi didn’t answer, so Louis crawled on all fours towards the sound of his short, pained breaths. He patted the ground, searching, until he found the wolf’s hand. Louis felt along the palm, up the wrist, to the forearm, and stopped when he felt fresh and dry blood clinging to the fur.

He pressed his thumb down into the skin and got a pained jerk in response.

“You need to bandage this. Why didn’t you say anything?”

“We...don’t really have much in the way of bandages, My Lord.”

Louis let go of the arm. He reached for where the knife had dropped during his fall, managing not to cut himself in the process. Nicking the hem of his shirt, he tore long strips off.

Legosi started to protest, “You don’t need to -”

“You want to bleed out in the woods and leave me here by myself?”

“N-No, My Lord.”

“Then shut the fuck up and let me finish.”

It wasn’t the cleanest, but it was the best they had for the moment. Louis grabbed Legosi’s arm again and blindly felt the margins of the wound. He wrapped it slowly, making sure it was neither too tight nor too loose.

“There,” he stated as he tied the ends off. “Now let’s keep moving. Unless you have any more injuries you’re hiding?”

“No. None.”

“I’m not going to tear open another wound next time I fall into you?”

“No, My Lord.”

“Alright then,” Louis stood and held his arm out into the darkness. “Lead the way, Oh Mighty Kingsguard.”

They traveled for a few more hours, but before long Louis’s twisted ankle started protesting and his hands were numb. It was too dangerous to start a fire, and Louis wasn’t sure if they even had the means to light one. Eventually, they came upon a large oak tree. Its trunk was concaved along one side and although the ground below was damp, it blocked some of the night’s breeze.

Louis wondered if he was dreaming as he sat back against the tree with Legosi cross-legged at his side, their shoulders bumping against each other. Although Legosi’s arm was wrapped and the rest of the blood had been washed away in the bay, Louis couldn’t get the sharp tangy scent out of his nostrils.

He pulled his knees to his chest and propped his chin against them. He sighed deeply. Closing his eyes near Legosi had his instincts pawing at the proverbial ground in agitation. He was too exhausted to act on it though, the adrenaline of the night had worn off and Louis’s eyes were heavy.

“You should get some sleep, My Lord. I’ll keep watch.”

Louis felt the rumble of his voice where their shoulders touched..

“Okay,” Louis relented, too tired to argue. He rested his head against the tree. “Wake me halfway through and I’ll take my turn.”

“Oh, there’s no need to worry yourself with that, My L-”

“I’m not an invalid,” he interrupted, voice firm despite his exhaustion.

He felt Legosi flinch beside him.

“I-I didn’t mean it like-”

“I saved your ass in the castle, didn’t I? Don’t make the mistake of underestimating me, wolf.”

Legosi was silent. Louis repressed a shiver as another gust of wind shot through his fur. He curled up a bit more into the tree to escape it.

“Besides, you won’t do a good job protecting me if you’re falling asleep in the middle of a fight.”

“Of course, My Lord,” the wolf replied softly.

Satisfied, Louis forced his eyes shut, past the screaming of his instincts to _don’t! Predator! Run, run!_

Louis pushed his head against the tree and let the scrape of the rough bark distract him from his subconscious enough to fall into a light doze.

His dreams were filled with tall trees and the gentle falling of snow.

* * *

As they made their trek through the woods the day after the attack, Legosi decided that he didn’t know what to make of the cervid under his protection. The animal was so wishy-washy that it was starting to give him whiplash. Once second he’d be casually explaining where they were and how far they needed to go until they reached Willowrend, and the next he was insulting Legosi’s ability as a kingsguard.

Legosi spent most of their trip through Kingswood puzzled and unable to guess what kind of sentence would come out of Louis’s mouth next.

He stared at the deer’s back as Louis used the sun’s position to guide them through the dense woods.

Louis walked like a predator: head held high, back straight, footsteps gracefully light against the dead leaves that littered their path.

His eyes were predatory too. Legosi could feel them piercing through him, right down to his bones, when the deer looked his way. It made Legosi feel like he had a pair of eyes stalking him from the shadows.

In the past four years, Louis was the only herbivore in Westeros besides Yafya that hadn’t cowered at the first sight of him. Even more, Louis had held his gaze, walked up, and shoved his arm down Legosi’s mouth in such a show of dominance that Legosi was sure that he would be a fool to go against any of the animal's decisions. He didn’t know whether to be elated that for once an animal wasn’t afraid of him or if he should worry about the deer gutting him in his sleep with the knife.

The deer’s coppery eyes glinted sharply as he turned back to glare at him, “Move it wolf. It’s getting dark.”

Legosi picked up his pace because, again, knife.

He tried to not be mesmerized at the animal in front of him, but he just couldn’t help it. Louis of House Elaphus just kept surprising him.

Back at the castle, he had to pause when he had come upon Louis standing off with a snarling coyote. The almost literal blaze of power and fortitude he’d seen encased in Louis’s eyes had been staggering. Not to mention how he looked as he had stood, tall and triumphant with bow in his hand, after shooting that lion. Legosi thought the weapon fit him well: all strength and precision hiding behind an innocuous, sleek curve. And if other animals could sense his magic like Legosi could, nobody would be able to escape the swirling inferno of his presence. Legosi was sure he was in the presence of a being higher than himself. It was almost as if the God of Light and Shadow, R’hllor himself had descended into mortal form.

Louis’s russet fur certainly resembled flames as the spring breeze make it flicker against the setting sun.

When they decided to stop for their second night, Legosi thought it was safe enough to have a small fire. Legosi could tell that the deer couldn’t navigate the darkness as well as he could, so he figured a fire might lift the animal’s spirits a bit, make him feel like he had more control over their situation. Also, despite the comfortable weather, the deer had started shivering again.

“How?” the deer replied when Legosi mentioned it, “Unless you shoved some flint in your pants on the way out?”

Legosi wasn’t sure if the second sentence was supposed to be sarcastic or not, he chose to pretend it wasn't.

“No, but you can light it, can’t you?”

Louis scoffed as he leaned against a tree. With his branching antlers and the obscurity of the setting sun, he would be easily camouflaged if he didn’t move.

“Do I look like a dragon to you?”

“Well, you have fire magic, right? Just use that.”

Legosi suddenly found himself shoved back against a tree.

“What did you say?”

Legosi felt confused, was asking an animal to do magic forbidden in Westeros? He didn’t remember Yafya teaching him that type of etiquette. “You’re a Red Magic user. You can use your power to start a fire yourself.”

“I am _not_ a mage.”

“Yes you are, My Lord. It’s all over you, I can see it.” Did he...not know?

“You can _see_ it?” the deer’s grip on his shoulder tightened.

“Well,” Legosi scratched at the back of his neck, “maybe ‘see’ isn’t the right word. I can sense magic. It’s more more like...reading auras? Each kind of magic has it’s own, and yours is unquestionably that of Red Magic.”

Louis looked at him incredulously. Did he overstep a boundary? Ugh, this country’s customs were so complicated.

The deer released him. He put some distance between the wolf and himself, crossing his arms.

“Yes. I have fire magic,” he admitted begrudgingly.

Legosi’s tail started wagging.

Louis saw and glared, jabbing a finger in his direction, “You cannot tell anyone. As far as anyone knows, magic is gone from Westeros and I want to keep it that way.”

Legosi nodded rapidly.

“Of course, My Lord. Now, just rest here for a moment while I gather some tinder.”

The forest is a bit damp, but Legosi manages to scrounge enough dry wood to hold a decent flame.

He set the wood up and arranged some rocks around the pile to keep it contained. Legosi could hear Louis’s stomach growling, so he left Louis to light the fire himself while he went deeper into the shadowing foliage for food.

The forest was plentiful, especially when off the beaten roads and foraging trails like they were. Legosi dug up a few wild carrots and was luck enough to come across a blackberry bush. He grabbed all his hands could carry and brought it back to their small campsite.

When he got back to their little resting site, a small flame was crackling against the limbs. Legosi’s tail wagged at the sight, happy his charge was warm and soon to be fed.

Louis’s fur looks a bit singed and his eyes are studying the fire like he was contemplating the next move at a war table.

Louis was pulled from the fire when Legosi happily deposited the food before him.

“That’s all I could find, but it should keep you going until we reach Willowrend.”

The deer picked up a dirt-dusted carrot. Legosi felt satisfied with himself as Louis started scarfing it down along with a few berries.

Legosi smiled to himself and put his hands a bit closer to the fire. Perhaps it was a bit chilly after all.

“Here,” two of the larger carrots were held out to him, “You need to eat too.”

“You need to keep up your strength, My Lord,” he protested. He didn’t find enough to fill both of them up.

“ _Seven Gods_ ,” Louis sounded exasperated, “didn’t we already have this discussion last night? How are you supposed to do your job if you don’t take care of yourself. Honestly.”

Louis practically threw the vegetables at Legosi. He fumbled to catch them. As much as he wanted to give them back, Louis was right. He hadn’t eaten since lunch before the attack on the castle, and he could feel his stomach protesting the idea of going longer without something.

He ate his carrots in small bites, chewing them thoroughly and making sure his mouth was closed as he did so. Louis looked smaller sitting next to him than he did leading the way through the woods. It made Legosi hunch his shoulders and hide his free hand in his lap. He wanted Louis to feel protected while with him.

Halfway through the first carrot, he noticed Louis staring intently at him, watching him eat.

Legosi stopped chewing and tilted is head. Was he being rude again? Maybe Louis was uncomfortable watching a carnivore eat right next to him? It wouldn’t be the first time a herbivore in Westeros found his eating habits unsettling.

He finished chewing and swallowed, “Is something wrong?”

Louis blinked, seeming to snap back into the present at his words. The deer popped a couple of blackberries in his mouth and looked away, “No. Eat your food.”

After he finished, Legosi laid on his back by the fire and looking up through the tree gaps at the bright starlit sky. He kept his ears and nose open to the forest around them, keeping watch for any danger. Louis was leaned up against a tree on the other side of the fire, staring into it again.

“Do you know who it was that attacked King’s Landing?”

Legosi thought back to the extra information Yafya had hastily spoken to him while they scurried down the halls to the battle.

“King Yafya told me he’s a gazelle-leopard hybrid. He was controlling the attacking animals using some kind of Shadow Magic.”

Legosi told the deer what he had found on the jaguar in the dungeons, and of Yaya’s reaction to the news. He spoke of how the magic felt like decay and searing flesh, of how the hyena he fought didn’t die no matter how many injuries it received. Louis’s muzzle wrinkled at the description.

Legosi absently traced his eyes against the constellations he knew as he explained, “Whoever he is, Un- the King knows him. He told me he was dangerous.”

“My father said he was after me. Why though? The only reason I can think of is perhaps they wanted to kidnap and ransom me, but raiding King’s Landing seems like overkill for that.”

Legosi hummed, “Maybe His Majesty was going to choose you for his heir?”

A short, harsh laugh shot out of the deer. Legosi tilted his head and caught the tail end of an eye-roll.

“Undoubtedly,” came Louis’s deadpan reply.

Louis leaned down and scooted closer to the fire, smearing his clothes with even more dirt.

“Wake me when the moon starts setting,” he closed his eyes.

Legosi sighed and turned his eyes back to the sky, deciding not to tell the deer that it was a new moon that night.

Legosi didn't sense any trouble until the third evening, when they were only a few kilometres out from Willowrend.

A sent was brought downwind to them. Legosi jerked to a stop, chasing it through the air, pinpointing a direction.

Louis noticed his change in demeanor and caught on immediately.

“How many?”

He tried to distinguish the tangled scents.

“More than two at least.”

“Are they the same as the attackers?" he could see Louis's grip on his knife tighten. "The...shadow magic animals?”

“No,” he identified cumin, frankincense, was that acacia? “But a lot of mercenaries and thieves prowl these woods.”

He sniffed again, their scent was getting stronger, closer. He felt his hackles rise.

He grabbed Louis’s hand and pulled him to a nearby oak tree, ignoring the indignant ‘hey!’ at the sudden force.

He released the deer and laced his fingers together, motioning for Louis to put a food on them, “Hide in the tree, I’ll help you up.”

Louis looked at him, down to his knife, and then back into the woods.

Damn this prideful deer.

“My Lord, we don’t have time to waste, now _go_ and let me do my job.”

The deer seemed to make his decision. He placed a hand on Legosi's shoulder and his foot in the cradle of the wolf's hands. Legosi hoisted him onto the lowest hanging branch and Louis climbed deftly up into the foliage.

Legosi gripped his sword tightly as he made sure his charge was well concealed.

“I’ll call for you when it’s safe,” he said softly, knowing the deer's sharp ears could hear it. He walked away from the tree, trying to be as silent as he could.

He could hear their loud footsteps now. Legosi braced his sword in front of him when a heavy form slammed him into the ground from behind. Sharp claws dug into his back to hold him there.

“Well look here boys.”

Legosi turned his head and saw a lion above him smiled, the scars over his right eye wrinkled at the motion. 

Three more burst through the tree line, swords and daggers in hand. They were of various colors and markings, but they all shot the same sneering expression at him.

“What’s a fucking _dog_ doing on our land?”

“Nothin’ good, we should teach ‘im a lesson, yeah?”

The lions circled him, chuckling. Legosi was a little worried about the odds. Four against one wasn’t the best, even for a fighter like himself.

He bared his teeth at the one holding him down.

“I can’t wait to rip those teeth out your fucking mouth, you son of a - “

“Free? Wait, don't!"

There was a loud rustle, a thud, a familiar grunt. _No, no, Lord Louis stay away_.

The lions shifted their gaze to the deer. Legosi growled a low warning at them, a promise to rip them apart if they touched the herbivore.

There was a pause, and then the lions chorused in excitement.

“Louis!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayeeeee my good Shishigumi bois are here! This chapter originally ended up being around 7000 words....so two chapters it is!


	5. Setting Ablaze

Louis woke from a pleasant dream, one he couldn’t recall but that filled him with contentment upon awakening.

It took him a moment to recognize the dark-green bedspread, the window looking out over the forest’s treeline past a tall, stone wall.

Home.

Willowrend was a town built on what used to be a clearing in the middle of the forest. Green surrounded them, from the trees to the grass to the creeping vines that lined the houses. It was familiar and comfortable. Louis sighed against his pillows and listened to the comforting chirping of the grasshoppers outside.

The moment Louis had hopped down from the tree the day before, frantic to keep his guards from tearing out his _other_ guard’s throat, he had finally felt safe.

His pride of lion guards, the Shishigumi they called themselves, were just as much his family as his father was, if not more. An old ruling family of Westeros, the Lannisters, had given lions a bad reputation as cold, selfish, and being a little _too_ close to their own family members.

Louis knew a thing or two about labels though. As diverse and unconventional as his lions were, they were nothing like he rest of realm’s opinions of them.

Oguma may have taken him in, but the lions of the Shishigumi Pride were the ones who raised him.

He had fond memories of Hino teaching him proper etiquette, Free laughing at his first attempts at archery, Sabu adjusting his hands on a sword, Jimma straightening his coat against the winter cold. Ibuki had been there from almost the beginning, since Louis was taken out of his cell. They were his family. Though not of his own blood, the Shishigumi Pride were his brothers, closer than his biological family would ever be.

And in return, the deer of House Elaphus gave them a home, a purpose, a place where they could live their lives with respect and dignity.

He trusted them with his life, and their presence was a constant reassurance for him. They were the only carnivores he really trusted.

As he dragged himself out of bed and dressed, it almost felt like the events of the past week hadn't come to pass.

The noises he heard echoing down the wood-lined corridors of his and his father’s house (less than a castle but more than a cottage) reminded him that not everything at home is normal.

When Louis entered the banquet hall, wooden tables lined with breakfast for those under House Elaphus’s servitude, his lions and Legosi were already fighting like...well, cats and dogs.

“I say we castrate him. Turn him into the bitch he is,” Jimma said from next to Sabu, who was twirling the point of a throwing knife against the wooden table.

Free, Miguel, Dolph, Sabu, Hino, Dope, Jimma, Agata. His and his father’s finest. Half of them were eyeing the wolf warily while the others actively antagonized him. Jimma’s and Free’s tails flicked in amusement as Dolph sneered in Legosi’s direction.

Legosi, to his credit, seemed pretty unfazed by the browbeating. He was still shirtless, adorned only in the torn pants and scuffed boots he had worn during their trudge through the woods. However, it looked like their maester, Yuta, was able to properly bandage the wound on his arm at some point since their arrival.

The wolf sat, arms crossed with a bored expression, as the lions ganged up on him.

Louis wasn’t too worried, this kind of antagonism from his guard was less a show of force and more a test.

They cared about Louis, for reasons unfathomable to the deer himself, which was why they were doing their best to rankle the grey wolf. They were trying to break him, to see his true colors and make sure he wasn't just a hungry predator trying to get his claws into an unsuspecting deer.

Louis knew Legosi wasn't. He never would have made it home otherwise.

Dolph slammed a hand against the table and leaned into the wolf’s space.

“I saw that blade of yours. You sit on a Dothraki cock for it, desert mutt?”

Louis saw Legosi’s eyes narrow, the tip of his tail twitch.

“Says the lion who lives in a pride of males.”

Louis smirked. It wasn’t often his guards had to deal with backtalk.

Dolph snarled, “You wanna just say what you’re implying, dog?”

Legosi eyed the sheathed blade at Dolph’s side, “Well, you know what they say about men who wield long-swords.”

Louis snorted a laugh at the enraged expression that appeared Dolph’s face. Looked like the wolf’s bark _wa_ _s_ as bad as his bite.

“You fucker- “

“If you’re going to measure swords do it outside. You'll scare the maids,” Louis said as he walked in between the two bickering carnivores to grab a biscuit and honey from the simple breakfast spread.

Free folded his arms across his chest from where he sat with his boots propped on the table, “Louis, why’d you bring this filth in here? We can protect ya well enough.”

“Because he saved me from an army of un-dead carnivores,” he bit into his food. “Consider yourselves lucky. If I died, I would’ve come back and haunted the lot of you.”

He had given them a brief summary of the attack on the capital the moment they had brought Louis past the walls that surrounded Willowrend. If they seemed skeptical about the events that transpired, they hadn’t voiced their opinions. 

The doors to the hall banged open and a frantic servant, a young zebu bull named Jules, scrambled through.

“Young Lord!” he bent over, hands on his knees, heaving breaths of air from the run, “At the...front...gates!”

“Calm yourself Jules,” Louis stalks forward, “Are we under attack?”

He saw Legosi and his lions straighten to attention, all grievances forgotten for the moment.

Jules shook his head so violently that Louis thought he’d sprain his neck.

“No! Lord Oguma, Ser Ibuki, they’re back!”

* * *

“Let me through,” Louis demanded to the civilians of Willowrend as they crowded around the entrance of the town.

The iron gate creaked and groaned as it was brought down, closing off their village to outsiders once more. The crowd gossiped and fretted, whispering suspicions of what happened at King's Landing for their lord to come home in such a state. Many recognized their Young Lord and helped Louis make his way through the throng.

His father was at the gates, bloodstained but alive. He was leaning heavily against Ibuki, and three deep slash marks marred his left side. The wounds looked angry, red and scabbed over with dried blood on the fur around it. Oguma was ordering the guards around as if he didn't currently look like a soft breeze would blow him over.

“You’re alive,” Louis said as he approached.

“Ibuki is very skilled at what he does,” Oguma turned away for a moment to command, “I want double the number of guards on patrol at all times! Gates will be closed to anyone unless I say so!”

“My Lord, we need to get you to Maester Yuta. Your wounds -” Ibuki said.

“No, bring me to my study. Louis, accompany me.”

“But Lord Oguma -”

“Did I stutter, Ibuki?”

Oguma gave him a scathing look, one that could shut even Ibuki down.

The older lion sighed and complied, grumbling about the stubbornness of deer.

There was a scramble in the crowd, Hino appeared out from between whispering civilians and supported Oguma’s other side.

“Louis, gather your men,” Ogummepointed to Legosi as they passed, “and him. All of you come with me. We need to discuss the attack, and I’m not repeating myself.”

Straight to business then.

Louis gathered the Shishigumi, Legosi trailing behind them apprehensively, and they all made their way into Oguma’s personal study.

The older stag motioned to Ibuki and Hino to set him down at the chair behind his desk. Louis would never say it out-loud, but the way his father was hunching over, hand on his side worried him.

“You know who attacked King’s Landing,” Louis started as soon as the doors to the study were closed.

His father straightened against the back of the chair with a pained expression, and nodded. “His name is Melon. He’s a leopard-antelope hybrid, and a mage known for his use of dark magics. The animals fighting for him? They were corpses, brought back from the dead with blood-magic, and now they’re under his command. A loyal, unquestioning army that can fight past pain and fear. All they know is what their creator commands. It doesn’t matter how many are killed, Melon can just make more out of those fallen on the battlefield. He...used them during the Blood War. It was only due to Yafya that he was defeated. At least we thought he was.”

“You said he was after me.”

“Yes.”

“Why?” Louis threw his arms out as he approached the opposite side of his father’s desk, “What’s so important that he needed to siege all of _King’s Landing_ to get to me?”

“Because you are King Yafya’s heir.”

Louis froze. No way. His father had to be lying or delusional with fever. Louis clenched his fists.

“Don’t patronize me.”

Oguma glared, “Do I look like I am making a joke, Louis?”

No. No he didn’t, but that didn’t stop Louis from speculating the reason behind Oguma making such a claim.

“And why would Yafya tell you that before he announced it? Just to prepare yourself for your son’s inevitable failing as a ruler?”

“It was always going to be you, Louis,” Ibuki spoke up from his father’s side

Any protests Louis had died on his lips. Ibuki wouldn’t lie to him.

“What do you mean?”

Oguma explained, “The Festival of the Sublime, meant as a way for our king to scout out a new heir? It was a ruse meant to throw off any unwarranted attention you would receive. You were six when we decided. A young deer heir? You may as well have walked around with a target on your back, Louis. So Yafya and I thought of a way to keep your position a secret, but in a way where it wouldn’t be too strange when you eventually took the throne. There was never any contest, it was always _you_ , Louis.”

Louis felt like he wasn’t breathing,“I...I don’t understand.”

“You are an incredibly special animal, Louis. Yafya knew it when he first saw you, as did I." 

He...he was going to be the king? _Is_ king? That made no sense. There were animals stronger, animals kinder...what about him made Yafya think _he_ would be able to rule the Seven Kingdoms?

Oguma's expression melded into something gentle, "You have a fire in you, a fighting spirit. You are not easily swayed, you don't back down from a challenge. You are smart and thoughtful. You were chosen to rule Westeros even before the first festival was announced. Yafya would have it no other way.”

The floor felt like it was collapsing beneath him. Brethlessly he stuttered, trying to find any words, "I..."

He wasn’t even announced as an heir, and yet how was that going for Westeros? The capital was burning, the Red Keep overtaken. Had the attack on the castle been an assassination attempt? Was this ‘Melon’ there to overthrow Yafya and kill Louis to ensure there was no one else to lay claim to the throne?

All those people, all the animals who risked their lives during the attack...had they known they were fighting for Louis? Would they if they had? Would the families of the massacred think of him?

What would... _his_ _realm_ think of him?

Louis’s entire body felt like it was made of lead. He leaned forward, resting his palms against the edge of his father’s desk. He stared deeply into the smooth grain of the rosewood.

“I know that this must feel overwhelming, Louis, but what happens next is up to you.” Oguma’s voice was understanding, but firm. “We must go off the assumption that Yafya is dead. An usurper sits on the throne room of King’s Landing. Westeros will be looking for someone to turn to. When word spreads, and I will make sure it does, of who Yafya’s heir is they’ll be looking to _you_ , Louis.”

 _Looking to me_ , Louis ruminated. He closed his eyes against the crushing weight of the remark. His thoughts drifted to the civilians of Westeros, the animals going about their business on the market streets of King’s Landing, of his own people in Willowrend, of his acquaintances scattered across the realm like Pina and Bill.

They were all under his reign now. They would go to him. They would look to him for guidance, for protection.

He thought of Tem.

He couldn’t, _wouldn’t_ let the animals under him suffer as Tem did.

He let out a deep breath as something steeled inside of him.

Melon wanted a fight? Fine. He would get one.

The temperature of the room sharply dropped.

Louis heard a soft crackle from below him. His eyes shot open.

He saw Ibuki stiffen from beside his father.

Louis’s breath fogged in the air in front of his nose. His hands tingled.

He looked down and saw a light sheen of frost layered on top of his hands. The strands of ice crept down, onto the dark wood of the desk beneath is grip. The air felt chilled and crisp, but somehow Louis wasn’t cold.

Louis ripped his hands from the desk and shook the frost off of them. The animals in the room shivered as the temperature shifted back to normal around them.

“That’s new,” Free muttered.

Louis looked at his hands in wonder, agreeing.

His fingers felt stiff, like he’d been playing bare-handed in the snow. He flexed the appendages, chasing the sensation away.

He looked to Oguma, who stared intensely at the tendrils of ice melting on his desk.

His adoptive father didn’t look surprised. He looked resigned.

The older stag held out a hand.

“Ibuki, bring me that green tome on the top shelf, three down from the left.”

The lion did as he was told. There was no title etched into the hard cover of the book, and the spine creaked as Oguma delicately opened it. He flicked through page after page until he pulled out a loose scrap of parchment. It looked like it was torn hastily, the margins jagged and uneven. The yellowing of the paper spoke of its old age.

Oguma stared at it, and traced his eyes over words Louis couldn’t see.

His father placed it on the desk and slid it over to Louis, steering clear of the now-melted ice lining the surface.

“When I was young, before I met you, when my father was still Lord of Willowrend, I met a magpie greenseer.”

Louis’s eyes shot to his father’s face. Greensight was a rare type of magic, more-so than fire, shadow, and blood. It was one that came in the form of visions of the past, future, symbolic images, and metaphors. Greenseers were plagued with these visions their entire lives. Or, at least they _were_. As far as Louis knew, the last known greenseer had been a young wolf of the Stark Pack of Winterfell, but he died almost three hundred years ago.

“It was during the Blood War,” Oguma continued staring at the paper. “We had been on a losing streak. Hundreds of our men dying in battles that were lasting days at a time. I sought her out to ask about contingencies for the King’s next battle plan. I offered her her weight in gold and an entire castle, but all she gave me was this,” he tapped on the torn paper.

Louis picked it up. He looked at the expectant faces of the carnivores in the room and decided to read it out loud.

“ _Living under a name,_

_But birthed from a number,_

_A blunt toothed lion cub_

_In a world torn asunder_ ”

His brows shot up at the paragraph. He looked to his father. Oguma simply waved at him to continue. Louis held in his questions and read more.

“ _Saber fangs_ _and_ _twisted_ _horns_

_Born of love forlorn,_

_His pain and pleasure warring_

_To burn the world all the more_.”

Louis swallowed heavily.

“ _Two crowns of bloodied thorns_

_Crossing through greed and pride._

_Their hidden mysteries warring for_

_The_ _ir_ _beasts_ _to walk astride_.”

“ _Red and gold will war for_

_A power that lies submerged._

_Time to arise_

_Fire and Ice_

_Shadow and Blood_

_A world rebirthed_.”

“ _Seek the flame frostbitten,_

_The knight of snow and sand,_

_In their power lies the answer,_

_The fate of all the land._ ”

His hands clenched around the fragile parchment.

“ _The world’s end lies uncertain,_

_The future shall be claimed,_

_A world that burns or a king’s return_

_By who the beast is tamed_.”

The room sat silent as the last rhyme rang about the study.

Louis lowered the paper.

“I’d like to speak with my father alone.”

He felt the glances the lions shot his way. Legosi had his tail tucked under the heavy atmosphere. Ibuki looked between Louis and Oguma, conflicted. Oguma stared into Louis’s eyes. The older buck nodded and ushered the carnivores out with a wave.

They shuffled out, and Ibuki sent him one last concerned glance before he shut the door softly behind him.

Louis stood in the silence for a moment, the exhaustion from the past week sitting heavily on his mind.

He slowly lifted he page and waved it through the air, staring at the bookcase past Oguma’s shoulder.

“This...this is about me,” it wasn’t a question.

Oguma nodded, folding his hands and laying his chin on them, “Yes.”

“And this...the,” he reread the second stanza, “the ‘saber fangs and twisted horns’...that’s the hybrid that attacked the castle. Melon.”

“Yes."

The parchment crinkled as Louis's grip on it tightened.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I didn’t want you, a child, to live with it hanging over your head. I didn’t want it to become a self-fulfilling prophecy,” Oguma stood from his chair and paced. Louis didn’t know if the raggedness of his adoptive father’s breathing was due to the topic at hand or his injuries.

“I brought it to Yafya, he was Captain of the Guard at the time. He set out for Melon, to take him out before the prophecy was to pass. He wasn’t hard to find. Hybrids are so rare that word travels fast.”

He paused, one arm held close to his injured side. He stared at the worn floor.

“Yafya told me he killed him. And when Ibuki barged through my gates with you in his arms years later...I felt…”

Oguma paused. It was so unlike him, Louis’s father never ran out of words, he always had a retort for everything thrown at him.

The stag rubbed a hand against his eyes and sighed heavily. Louis never realized how gray his muzzle had gotten in recent years.

“I thought we had stopped it, and that I could give you a destiny that wasn’t written out for you. It seems I was wrong.”

Louis’s anger faded to a simmer, his shoulders drooping. He was still frustrated that the secret had been kept all these years. However, he appreciated the thought behind Oguma’s intentions.

He looked over the paper once more, trying to memorize the words. So he was supposed to fight- no, go to war with Melon. Okay, fine, but _h_ _ow_ was he supposed to do that? He couldn’t swing a sword well, not outside of a training lesson. He wouldn’t get very far past Melon’s blood-magic army with just a bow and arrow neither.

He looked down at the melted frost evaporating form his father’s desk. He focused his attention inside himself, feeling the ever-present hum of heat. Fire and ice.

“Seek the flame...the knight of snow and sand…” he muttered to himself.

“I believe it’s saying you need to master your magic.” Oguma added.

“So I can get powerful enough to stand a chance against Melon.”

Oguma nods, he clasps his hands behind his back, his thinking pose, “He’s too powerful to defeat in a simple weaponized battle. You need to master your fire and...now ice magics. You need to find yourself a teacher, or multiple. There are no books on magic nearby and I doubt you could actually perfect it on written word alone. But...I know of none who can help.”

“I know someone who can teach you.”

The two stags whipped around and saw Legosi shyly peaking his head through the door.

“I apologize for the intrusion, but…”

He opened the door more to reveal multiple lions huddled against the door. Louis and Oguma sent them equal glares.

Dirty eavesdroppers.

“You know someone? Who?” Oguma demanded.

“My grandfather, My Lord. He knows fire magic.”

"Wow, small world,” he heard Dope quietly mutter from the pile of felines.

“He’s back in Essos.” Legosi continued. “He’s head of a small village in The Golden Fields, along the river that lies east to the city of Myr. I am confident he would be willing to teach Lord Louis fire magic.”

Louis sent a glance to his father, asking a silent question. He was skeptical, a journey of that magnitude could be dangerous, but what other choice did they have?

Oguma turned fully to the wolf, his hands clasped behind his back, as regal as ever.

“We are lucky you have chosen to serve King Yafya, Legosi of…”

Legosi looked away, almost embarrassed, “I am of no House, sir.”

“I know a lot of good men who are not. You have fulfilled your duty and have brought my son home, safely. Not only that, you have also given us valuable information. My gratitude is unending. Come, let us house, feed, and clothe you. It is the least I can do for your service.”

Legosi bowed low, “Thank you, Lord Oguma.”

Oguma eyed Louis as he steered the wolf out of the room. He knew that look. This was his job, his decision. Oguma was letting him lead the way this time.

Louis watched them leave. He looked down at the paper again. The inked words seemed so heavy in his hand. They stared at him, challenging.

Louis knew what he needed to do.

“All of you,” the lions perked up as their young master addressed them.

“I have jobs for you.”

The plan was simple. Half of his guard would accompany him across the Narrow Sea to Essos. The others would spread the word of Melon, warning the Lords to prepare their armies and vassals to fight. And the consequences that awaited the if they didn’t.

Sabu to the north, Jimma to the south all the way to Dorne. Dope to the west, Hino along the eastern coast. They were fast and would make good time traveling. Miguel, Dolph, Agata, Free, and Ibuki would go to Essos with him, they were his heaviest fighters, and Louis had a feeling he would need all the protection he could get.

They all agreed to their roles without a second thought, and Louis was thankful for their faithfulness. It made his next steps a bit easier.

Evening found Louis in his room, gathering things for his trip. Food, coin, clothes more inconspicuous than normal. He had a bow and a full quiver of arrows beside it. He was going to be packed and prepared this time.

Or at least he was supposed to be packing.

Louis sat on the edge of his bed, looking at the empty bag in the middle of the floor, it’s mouth open and waiting for the contents of Louis’s journey.

Louis stayed on the bed.

He should be packing.

His hands were folded in his lap to hide their shaking.

There was a soft knock at the door.

“Enter,” he said, distracted. The revelations of the day hung over his head like a guillotine.

“Lord Louis?”

Louis slowly lifted his head and turned.

“Legosi,” his voice betrayed nothing. “Do you have need of me?”

The wolf closed the door softly behind him. Louis’s herbivore instincts bristled at the action, but Legosi stayed in the shadow of the doorway. His thick fur looked damp and the smell of wet dog permeated the room. A loose tunic hung from his frame and his pants pooled around his ankles. Perhaps they were some of Ibuki’s old clothes that Yuta dug up. Louis watched him take a deep breath before he made eye contact.

“I, uh, have come to fulfill my end of our bargain.”

“Bargain?”

“In the castle. I said if you followed me, if you...trusted me, I would let you do what you wish with me," the wolf shifted his weight between his feet.

And oh, yes, now Louis remembered the dramatic declaration the wolf gave him.

He eyed the wolf and put a hand under his chin in thought. Louis thought back to how Legosi fought in the castle, how he offered his shirt to keep Louis warm, how he tried to sacrifice his own well-being to get Louis back home swiftly and good health.

He thought of how the wolf knew of his magic, how casually he mentioned it, how he could _sense_ it.

The wolf was certainly an enigma, the most interesting one Louis had encountered in years.

He thought of the wolf’s strong back as he stood in front of him, protecting him. He felt his shoulders relax a bit.

Legosi shifted under Louis’s gaze.

Louis wanted to see what other surprises he had in store.

The young deer lord abandoned his position on the bed and stalked over to Legosi. The wolf’s ears folded back against his skull in apprehension. He stopped when there was only a foot of space between the two. He stared into Legosi’s eyes, let the animal sweat a little.

“It’s been a long time since you’ve seen your grandfather, hasn’t it?”

The wolf perked up, and the wisping sound of a tail through the air answered his question.

Louis wasn’t sure why, but the wolf’s presence eased...something in him. Made the thought of what he the journey ahead a little less daunting.

“Legosi of Essos, I would be honored if you accompanied me on my journey to learn magic. It will be dangerous, and I do believe our King Yafya ordered you to protect me. You’ve proven yourself to be a decent fighter and a loyal animal. Besides, I could make use of someone who knows the area well.”

The wolf looked at him with wide eyes, but didn’t answer.

Louis shrugged, and started to turn away.

“But, the choice is up to you, of course. If you don’t want -”

“Yes!”

Legosi jumped at his own outburst. Louis smirked. The wolf bashfully cleared his throat and bent down on one knee.

Louis’s ears turned up, attentive in surprise.

When Legosi looked up at Louis, his eyes are shining with a ferocity they never had back in King’s Landing.

“I am no real knight of Westeros, just a nomadic sword-hand, but still I offer you this. Prince Louis of House Elaphus, heir to the throne: I will shield your back and give my council and give my life for yours, if need be. I swear it by the Old Gods and the New,” he recited.

Louis gave a genuine smile at the pledge.

“Legosi of Essos, I accept your offer.”

Legosi smiled back.

A small, subtle though drifted over Louis’s subconscious, so fast and quiet he almost didn’t acknowledge it.

He liked the way the wolf looked kneeling before him.

* * *

They leave as the morning sun just starts touching the horizon.

His lions were bidding their goodbyes amongst themselves, somehow making a competition out of wishing more luck upon the other.

Legosi was staring out at the road, hands on his hips, contemplating gods knew what.

“I’ve sent word to a merchant, Ellion of House Derbianus. He will meet you at the docks of Storm’s End. His house has pledged fealty to ours for generations, and so he should agreed to let you accompany him and his crew to Myr,” Oguma said, bringing Louis’s attention away from the carnivore.

Louis nodded.

“We need to be on our way if we wish to make it on time. Unless our Young Lord wants to spend the night in the woods,” says Miguel.

Ibuki, Free, Dolph, Miguel, and Agata all stand together behind him, laden in half-plate armor and large swords. Legosi almost looks tiny compared to them. The wolf was traveling a bit more lighter with just a sleeveless layer of scale mail over a white tunic. He had bracers with metal studs over his forearms and shins. He looked much more Westerosi in the attire, despite the two braids still behind his ear. The only thing that gave his heritage away was the unnatural shape of the blade strapped on his back.

Louis himself wore simple, worn clothing of neutral colors. He hoped the brown cloak on his shoulders and the drab outfit would throw off anyone trying to find them. His bow and bag were strung across his shoulders, his quiver attached at the belt.

Oguma nodded and looked to Ibuki, “Try not to let him set fire to the Free Cities. Bad business and all.”

“I make no oaths I cannot break, My Lord,” Ibuki smiled and bowed.

Ibuki signaled to the party to get moving, and Louis’s chest felt tight. All of a sudden, the road seemed stretched out longer and the world so much bigger.

“Louis”

He turned back to his father.

There was an emotion shining in Oguma’s eyes that Louis couldn’t place.

“The moment I first saw you, before I knew of the number on your foot or connected you to the greenseer, I knew. I knew you would grow up a force to be reckoned with.”

Oguma placed a hand between Louis’s shoulder blades and hugged his son.

Louis’s nose was shoved uncomfortably against his father’s shoulder, but he closed his eyes and returned it.

“Go. Show the world your worth, my son.”

Louis nodded and slowly released Oguma from his embrace. He hiked his bag up higher on his shoulder.

“I’ll see you when I return. Goodbye, Father.”

“May the Seven Gods watch over you, Louis.”

The younger deer took one last look at the gates of his childhood home. His eyes traced over the vines that lined the stone walls and the imposing gates standing up past his father’s antlers. He committed them to memory then hurried to catch up to his carnivore entourage.

Oguma sighed as he watched them disappear down the rugged dirt road. He placed a hand over his injured side wearily.

“Sabu,” the lion glanced his way, “evacuate Willowrend. Bring them to to the southwest, and place them under Lord Gon’s protection at Cherryton. Make it quick. We have a guest coming, and I have a feeling we don’t have long before he arrives.”


	6. Simmer

“I can’t believe our esteemed Young Lord brought the dog along.”

“I can’t believe you’re still complaining about it.”

“Agata’s right. It’s been an entire day Free, give it a rest.”

“If you think me complaining for a _day_ is long, then I have news for you. Besides, tell me you don’t feel the same, Miguel!”

Legosi tried not to smile in amusement at the lions’ antics. They stood in a line, taking up most of the damp, cobblestone street that bored the homes and shops of Storm’s End.

Despite their less than welcoming attitude, Legosi thought he could get used to their teasing. There was a difference between actual fighting and play-fighting amongst carnivores, and Legosi could see right through their ruse. Despite the animosity between canines and felines, he didn’t believe he was in any danger from the lions now.

Plus, despite the their taunts, despite the almost ceaseless arguing he endured throughout the day, nothing could diminish the elation that Legosi was feeling.

He was going _home_.

His tail wagged behind him as he thought it.

Home! He was going to see his grandfather, his family!

How long had it been since he saw his pack? How long since he’d been in the presence of animals who loved him and didn’t look at him in fear and disgust?

He looked to the red deer as he chastised his guards for what seemed to be the hundredth time since they left Willowrend.

When Legosi had offered himself up to the deer, never in his wildest dreams did he think Louis would let him come along with him back across the sea. He would be forever grateful to the cervid for this chance. He was turthful in his oath, he would protect Louis with all he had. The man could have behedded him or sent him back to King’s Landing, but instead he saw into Legosi and gave him the one thing he’d wanted since he set foot into Westeros. He was taking Legosi home.

His tail wagged in spite of himself as he thought of his small riverside village, only a week or two away at most! He couldn’t wait to tell Jack about his time in the west, was too excited get his paws on some of Haru’s sugarcane that should be ready for harvest soon. He’d have to get Sebun to make him some new clothes. The ones he borrowed from Willowrend were too thick and stifling. Maybe he could get his grandfather to make him that one spicy dish with the...

A passerby bumped against his shoulder with a muttered ‘sorry’, bringing Legosi out of his thoughts of warm, breezy grasslands and back to the damp, chilly evening of Westeros.

It was late in night, but their entourage had made it to Storm’s End on time. The streets were quiet, but he could hear the growing noise of the harbor as they made their way through the small port town. The air smelled like dampness, salt, and dead fish. Legosi shook his fur out against the uncomfortable stickiness in the air, once again longing for the dry heat of his home. He continued silently bringing up the rear end behind the bickering lions.

Louis had been generous enough to fill Legosi in on who his felines companions were. Ibuki was his Captian of the Guard, whose leadership ran just under Louis’s. Free was adept at women and violence, which Legosi guess made him an asset somehow. Dolph was a good fighter, but had some medical knowledge, enough to wrap wounds and heal minor ailments at least. Miguel was the heavy lifter of the group, and ironically the most easygoing. Agata was the youngest, just a couple of years older than Legosi himself. Louis claimed he was just as good playing a lute as he was flinging daggers.

Said lute twanged against the younger lions back as he was jostled by Free.

“Hey, watch it! If you break my instrument, I’m gonna make you buy me another. And not one of the cheap ones either!”

“Why’d you bring that thing anyway, kid?”

“What? You think any of us wanna sit and listen you tell stories about how you had sex with a saber-toothed tiger in your youth _again_? No thanks.”

“I ain’t lying! That happened!”

“Yeah,” Miguel said, “and my late wife was a gerbil. You didn’t fuck a saber toothed tiger, they don’t even _exist_ anymore!”

“I did! I got the scar to prove -”

Louis, exasperated, spoke up from where he was leading them down the streets of Storm’s End, “Free, I know you didn’t fuck a saber-tooth, _you_ know you never fucked a saber-tooth. Right now, I don’t wanna hear about the saber-tooth you never fucked.”

Free indignantly turned to the back of the group, “What about you, wolf? You siding with these bastards?”

Legosi shrugged, “I guess anything is possible.”

“The _dog_ is on my side, but not my own brethren?”

“All of you shut it, we’re here,” Ibuki said. The rest of the lions quieted down with only a bit of grumbling.

They turned a corner, and the docks appeared in sight. Alight with lanterns and torches to illuminate the sharp drop-offs of the landing, it was a stark contrast to the sleepy streets they just exited. Animals rushed to and fro, between ships and the stacks upon stacks of supplies that lined the dockside. More than once, Legosi had to shuffle out of the way as animals carted large crates and barrels on and off of the tethered ships. The sound of waves lapping against the ships and rock walls added to the busy catcaphony.

Louis led them to the end of a long, wooden pier, at which stood a giant eland, so tall and broad that his frame even surpassed Legosi’s. His spiraling horns towered imposingly over the heads of the other animals as he pointed about and shouted orders to a crew loading supplies onto one of the larger ships.

“Ellion of House Derbianus?” Louis said as he approached the larger herbivore.

The eland turned from his ship and nodded his head in a small bow, “Lord Louis, I was beginning to wonder where you were. Lord Oguma has informed me you need passage to Myr. Of course, I am delighted to help any animal from House Elaphus.”

Ellion glanced past Louis at the five lions and Legosi. His disdain was apparent as he eyed the carnivores, and Legosi tensed under his gaze. Another suspicious herbivore.

“And who may these men be?”

“They are my guardians for this trip. The east is, as I’m sure you’re well aware, particularly...treacherous.”

The eland hummed, “Yes, of course.”

Ellion turned his gaze away from the carnivores and back to Louis. Legosi let out a breath, his shoulders relaxing. The scrutiny of Ellion’s gaze left him with the familiar discomfort that came from the full force of a herbivore’s antipathy towards him.

However, Legosi couldn’t blame any of them for reacting that way. He knew his sharp teeth and claws set animals on edge, especially after the mess the Blood War had made of Westeros.

Ellion placed a hand between Louis’s shoulder blades, leading him up the gangplank and onto the ship.

“I apologize for it’s lack of luxury. _The_ _Red Dahlia_ is but a simple merchant ship, but she is sturdy and reliable. I hope she is to your liking, all things considered.”

The eland led them to the stern of the boat. The quarterdeck had staircases leading up either side. Legosi looked skyward at the royal blue sails. A flag with the branch of a cherry tree, what he assumed to be the crest of House Derbianus, fluttered above the crow’s nest.

“We do not have much in the way of private cabins; however, there is a room next to my own that I have renovated to serve as a room for you.”

The eland side-eyed Legosi and the lions, “I’m afraid I was not expecting your entourage though. You lot will have to make do with the crew’s quarters. They may have some free bunks for you below deck. Make yourselves at home, but please try to stay out of my crew’s way. We will be setting sail shortly.”

Louis looked back at them and gave a dismissing nod, “Behave, please, all of you.”

Ellion then ushered Louis away to show him his room, and the carnivores were left on the deck.

Free gave a wide yawn, “Well, might as well get some shut-eye. My feet are killing me.”

“Agreed,” Ibuki said, “We should wave down one of the crew. See if there’s any free spots for us.”

The felines started making their way to the stairway that lead below the wooden deck of the ship, discussing sleeping arrangements among themselves.

Legosi watched them disappear before turning the opposite way and settling himself against the polished railing of the ship’s side. The bustle of the crew preparing to depart faded into the background of his mind as he closed his eyes and leaned into the feeling of the sea breeze rustling his fur. He looked out across the ocean. The last time he sailed across the Narrow Sea, he was leaving behind everyone he loved, everything that he called home. He had been sad and lonely and just a bit terrified.

Now, he felt tranquil and determined. The heaviness in his heart that he carried with him the past four years made itself known once more. This time, Legosi embraced his homesickness and let himself think of the warm sun, sandy soil, and tall grass.

He kept his eyes out on the dark horizon as the crew finished their pre-sailing procedures, through the unfurling of the large sails, and past the lulling movements of the ship undocking into the waiting arms of the cresting sea waves.

The ship sailed, leaving the flickering lanterns of the edge of Storm’s End behind to be swallowed up by the void of the dark, midnight sea.

Only when the lights of Storm’s End had disappeared under the weight of the distance they made did Legosi straighten up from his spot. He stretched, his spine giving off small pops from his hunched form.

The deck had quieted, with the crew either maintaining their positions or asleep. Legosi couldn’t see the lions or Louis. Ellion stood at the helm, speaking with a sparrow.

Knowing he would not sleep with the excitement settled in his mind, Legosi set his small travel pack against a corner of the deck. He hummed a tune softly to himself as he ascended the stairs leading to the quarterdeck. As he reached the top, he saw Ellion hand the sparrow a scroll, who put it in a pouch on his side. The sparrow nodded and then took off, flying high across the sea.

“You’re sending a message?” Legosi asked the eland as he neared.

Ellion looked at him out of the corner of his eye, “I am sending word to a friend of mine in Myr. I’m having him prepare rooms for all of you for when we arrive. Sea travel can be exhausting for those not used to it.”

“That’s very kind of you. Um, actually, I was wondering...do you have need of any help? With the ship that is?”

Ellion paused, his brows furrowed, “Help? You wish to work?”

Legosi shrugged, “It’s better than sitting around and doing nothing. If you have need of me, I am here.”

Ellion mulled over the offer, “Speak to my First Mate. I’m sure she can rustle up something for you to do.”

Legosi wagged his tail and bowed in gratitude, “Thank you for your kindness. For the work and for our passage.”

As he turned to leave, the antelope spoke up once more, “What was your name, wolf?”

“Legosi, sir.”

“Legosi,” Ellion hummed before turning back to the maps laid out before him, “I’ll be sure to remember that.”

* * *

Louis figured he would learn a lot about himself in the next coming months as he traveled to unknown places and larned unknown things. Life changing journeys tended to do that, right?

The first new thing Louis learned about himself was that he was prone to seasickness.

He spent the first couple of days aboard _The Red Dahlia_ in a haze, hunched over the side of the ship and unceremoniously retching into the ocean.

He tried settling into the bed of his personal cabin that Ellion provided for him, with its lone bed and desk that barely fit into what he was loathe to call a ‘room’,but the bare wooden walls made the lurching of the ship even worse. So he had made himself at home where he could actually see the waves that rocked them, sitting with his back against the ship’s wooden railing and stomach gurgling unpleasantly.

His guards were having a better time at least. The five Shishigumi felines had claimed their own small corner of the deck to lounge around on during the daylight hours. They originally had taken turns staying with Louis through his fits of expelling everything he had ever eaten in his life, but Louis had quickly shooed them away. Their coddling had only added to the queasiness of his stomach.

Instead, they spent their time playing cards, telling tales, and watching the crew work.

Legosi, though, seemed to have taken it upon himself to integrate himself into the crew. Louis would often catch him moving supplies, hauling himself up the mast, or messing with the ships rigging.

Louis wasn’t sure why the wolf found it necessary to work himself all day when they were considered guests on the ship, but he didn’t try to stop him.

In fact, Louis found it amusing to watch the way the wolf would appear from nowhere and swipe a large crate from an unsuspecting rabbit or lift a small, startled armadillo to reach something high up. He would bend down to the eye level of whatever animal he spoke with. His claws and teeth were hidden so very meticulously that Louis knew it had to be a conscious effort on the wolf’s part.

He didn’t know why, but he disliked the way Legosi tended to fold his ears and tuck his tail when he conversed with animals smaller and weaker than him.

It took him a lot to resist marching up to Legosi and forcibly straightening up his ears and posture. Louis much more preferred the way the wolf looked when addressing himself: a majestically dangerous carnivore that respected him, not this…cowering, unimposing shell of an animal.

Which was why he was quite surprised, and a bit relieved, when the wolf brought it upon himself to seek him out later that evening.

Louis had been looking out at the waves cresting past the hull. His stomach still twinged unpleasantly at the rolling motion, but at least he could keep his food down now.

He reached up, scratched at the base of his antlers, and groaned at the tenderness that came forth. Great, his antlers were going to fall soon. He really didn’t want to deal with Free’s mocking and Ibuki’s mother henning along with everything else going on.

He sighed heavily and let himself wallow in self-pity for a moment.

The rhythmic thud of heavy footsteps approached, but kept his eyes on the reflection the moonlight made against the dark water.

The presence came up on his right and leaned next to him against the ship’s railing.

Louis blinked when a worn tankard filled with strong-smelling amber liquid was thrust into his field of vision.

“Here,” Legosi offered gently. “You look like you could use some of this.”

Louis took the mug and turned to face the wolf, “Did you really spend some of our coin on ale?”

Legosi gestured behind them, and Louis saw a giggling group of lions passing around a stoneware flagon.

“It was Free’s idea, really,” the wolf shrugged, twirling an apple between his hands. “Besides, leaving the only family you know and traveling to a place you’ve never been to before? It’s not an easy feat. I should know, I’ve done it twice.”

Louis turned to look a the canine curiously, “Twice?”

Legosi nodded and took a bite out of the apple he held.

“I was born north of The Wall,” he said with his mouth half full.

 _I knew it_ , Louis triumphantly thought to himself.

“Oh?” he inquired, feigning surprise, “A grey wolf living in the world of eternal ice and snow? How strange.”

Legosi smiled sheepishly, “My mother lived in a small, close-knit village on the eastern coast. I was born there, and lived in it for eight years.

The wolf’s smile turned bittersweet, “When she died, my grandfather came by ship to take me to his home in Essos. It wasn’t like I didn’t know him, he made yearly visits, but leaving for a place so different from what my home had been was...well, terrifying.”

“And your father?”

Legosi shrugged, “Didn’t associate with us.”

Louis looked at the melancholy expression on the wolf’s face, so similar to what he wore when they first met. He didn’t realize how much lighter those eyes had gotten since they left King’s Landing. Louis thought the lightness in them suited Legosi much more than the dark.

He, hesitantly at first, brought a hand up, giving Legosi time to refuse the comfort before he settled his palm on the wolf’s bicep.

“I’m sorry about your mother.”

Legosi sent him a small smile, and Louis felt like he had passed some unspoken test. That his gesture crossed a line, a good one.

“It was a long time ago. My grandfather took great care of me, though. Essos is beautiful too. Different, for sure, but it has its perks.”

Louis smiled and took a sip of the ale. The first gulp was like swallowing fire. Legosi chuckled as he coughed and gagged at the taste.

“One of those perks being strong ale.”

“You don’t say,” Louis said dryly. He licked his lips at the aftertaste, but relished in the warmth the drink brought to his face.

He swirled the liquid in his cup absentmindedly.

“Is Westeros really all that different from your home? All I’ve heard of it is -”

“’Carnivores born of flesh and blood’?” Legosi’s eyes glinted mischievously under the starlight.

Louis scowled at the chastisement. Cheeky mutt.

Legosi’s smile was not quite apologetic, “The relations between animals in Westeros is...different. You all tend to separate yourselves. Animals in the castle always steered clear of me. Tem was the first one to actually make an effort to befriend me, and that was six months after I arrived.”

Legosi looked out over the ocean, his tail waving slowly behind him,“Essos isn’t like that. Carnivores and herbivores live together from birth. They trade and build communities together. Kind of like you and your guards. The tolerance level ranges depending on what city you go to. The divide is still there, but it’s more...blurred.”

Louis tried to imagine it. Carnivore and herbivore children playing together, adults smiling and greeting each other without suspicion. It seemed surreal.

Legosi waved his apple, “But the fruit in Westeros is amazing! We never get blueberries or strawberries or apples. We really can only grow grains and corn. Sometimes traders will come by selling ripe bananas or citrus, but everything grown here is so sweet!”

Louis snorted at the enthusiasm, “Severe societal divide, but, hey, we have good food.”

Legosi chuckled at that, and Louis smiled in turn.

His smile quickly faded, “I would like to...apologize for that, by the way.”

“Hmm?” Legosi tilted his head, “Apologize for what?”

“The whole ramming you against a wall and accusing you of treason. It was unbecoming of me.”

“You don’t need to apologize for that, My Lord. I’ve had worse words thrown at me.’

“That still doesn’t make what I said right. I misjudged you Legosi, and for that I am sorry.”

A pause, as the wolf seemed to digest his words.

“I...thank you.”

Legosi’s eyes were much clearer this close. He could see bits of blue in the pale green of his irises. The streaks of gold stretching out from his dark pupils were a dizzying shade, bright and deep, like underwater sun rays splitting the sea apart. He thought with no shame that they were quite unique and even beautiful. He’d never seen eyes like Legosi’s before.

He could see so deep into them and...when had they gotten this close?

Louis shifted a couple of inches away and took a few more sips of the ale. The burn down his throat became less prominent and his head lighter with each one.

As he stared into the amber liquid, he found himself wanting to repay Legosi back in some way for the ale. And for his forgiveness.

“You know,” he started without thinking, “this isn’t my first time leaving home either.”

Legosi’s ears perked up, “Really? Where are you from?”

Louis kept his eyes on the ale. His reflection shimmered dimly under the lights of the moon and the boat.

“I was born as fodder for the Black Market. Westeros’s extension of it, at least.”

He heard the swishing of Legosi’s tail stop.

“I though they disbanded the Market after the war.”

“Well,” Louis gave a mirthless laugh, “you know, not everyone is as adept to change as me and you. I never knew my real mother or father. I imagine they must have been very poor or desperate. Maybe I was taken by force, or maybe they just didn’t give a shit, I’ll never know.

The brand on the bottom of his right foot tingled, as if stirred by the retelling of his past. Louis ground the sole of his boot against the wooden deck.

“My first memory is being in a dungeon. Then a steel cage. When we were old enough, the carnivores in charge of us would tote us around the continent, discretely going from town to town to auction us off. I was...lucky, I guess. Animals wanted more meat for their coin and I was scrawnier than the others.”

“How did you get...here?” Legosi’s voice was somber.

“Funny enough, it was him,” Louis pointed to Ibuki and couldn’t help but smile. “He was merchandise, like me, meant to be chopped into bits and sold for parts. He would’ve become decor or talismans to ward off evil or ingredients for traditional medicine. Some herbivores still hold those old superstitions, you know? Lion manes for spiritual prowess, bear bile for digestive health, rhino horns for aphrodisiacs, all that horseshit.”

Louis smiled as he heard Ibuki laugh at some impression Miguel was doing. Agata, the lightweight of the group, started playing a very drunk version of “The Dornishman’s Wife” on his lute. Louis smiled fondly as the others waved their tankards in the air and started singing off key.

“One night, he was able to escape, and he ran past my cage. He told me once that as he passed me by, he would have never forgiven himself if he had left me there. He broke me out and took me with him. I was terrified of him at first. I can’t tell you how many times I beat him up in the middle of the night and tried to run away.”

A sense of nostalgia came over Louis as he thought back to those days. A much younger Ibuki looking at him in exasperation as he held Louis off the ground by his shirt. How he had flailed and bared his teeth at the feline four times his size. Ibuki teaching him words, holding his hand to keep him from running off, Louis playing with his mane as Ibuki carried him on his shoulders.

“Eventually, I came to trust him. When we passed Willowrend, he wanted me to stay there. He knew Oguma was a red deer with no children, and I was a red deer with no family. Seemed like a perfect match. When he told his story, Father was so impressed he offered him a room in our house and a job. And, well, here we are.”

The wolf stared at him increduously, his mouth slightly hanigng open.

“That’s…”

_Sad? Pathetic? Unsettling?_

“...incredible.”

Louis startled at Legosi’s words. The canine was looking at him, he realized, not in horror but in awe.

“You’ve overcome so much. It must have taken great courage. The way you are now I...I never would have guessed. You’re a very strong animal, My Lord.”

Louis disagreed. He didn't see how Legosi had come to that conclusion. It was Ibuki who freed him, and Oguma who taught him to be what he was today. Louis didn’t have any part in it.

But Legosi was still looking at him like he was something special. Something to be admired.

He shifted, abashed at under such ill-fitting attention.

“Louis.”

The change in subject worked, and Louis relaxed as the expression on Legosi’s face became perplexed instead.

"What?"

“None of the others, even Ibuki, use any kind of ‘Lord’ title for me when we’re outside of a social setting. I suppose you’re one of them now, too, so…just 'Louis' is fine.”

The wolf’s expression lit up, his tail waving wildly behind him.

Louis pulled his eyes away, clearing his throat against an indistinguishable feeling that popped up in his chest, “...a-and we’re trying to keep a low profile anyway, so, you know. You can just drop the ‘My Lord’s and whatnot.”

“Alright...Louis,” Legosi tried his name out with a lopsided grin.

Louis felt his ears heat up. Must be the alcohol.

“Yeah, well,” he shoved the tankard back into Legosi’s hands, “I should be getting to bed. Long day of throwing my guts up into the sea tomorrow, you know.”

“Oh, alright! Let me know if I can fetch you anything. I think there’s some tea leaves in the stores that I can bargain for if you are ailing.”

“That’s not necessary, Legosi,” he waved the wolf off as he turned to retreat into his cabin.

He saw Legosi deflate a little at his refusal, and by the gods did the expression his face make Louis feel guilty.

“But,” he added, “that is generous of you. Thank you.”

He was rewarded with a soft smile, “You’re welcome. Goodnight, Louis.”

“Goodnight.”

Louis hurriedly retreated into the stern of the boat, traversing the short distance to his room.

Louis shut the door behind him, groaned, and covered his eyes with his hands.

What the fuck was that? He had been talking with Legosi like he was an old friend, not an animal he had just met earlier in the week. What was he thinking, carelessly just spouting out his past like that?

Sighing, he chalked up the direction of their conversation to the ale and his seasickness.

He’d been so used to seeing Legosi put on a mask around the herbivore crew, perhaps seeing the wolf act like his real self set Louis at ease.

He sighed as he made his way onto the small bed. The thin mattress offered little comfort.

It’s not like it mattered anyway, Legosi probably put the pieces of his past together from the prophecy. It’s not like he could do anything with the information Louis had given him.

Although, Louis did feel a bit better about the fact that they had something in common.

_Strong, he called me._

As he laid on his thin mattress surrounded by the rocking of the ship, he resolutely did _not_ think about a pair of green and gold eyes as he drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Put a little reference to Tormund in here because I love him, and the Shishigumi remind me of him for some reason. Also, I'll being doing some editing on previous chapters, just fixing typos and whatnot, cause there's a lot. As always, thanks for reading!


	7. Inferno

Oguma knew it was time when, through the seeping darkness of twilight, the smell of smoke drifted into his study.

Slowly, resolutely, he closed the novel he had been reading and placed it aside.

He stood from his desk chair, his side twinging in a way that had the edges of his vision darkening. Grunting past the pain, he went to a table against the wall and grabbed a decanter of dark red wine, his best, and two crystalline glasses.

His injured side still flaring, he all but collapsed back down at his desk. He stopped, catching his breath, before pouring wine into one of the glasses.

The stag stared deeply into the burgundy liquid, steeling himself.

He, by his own choice just as much as the limitations of his injuries, chose to stay behind in Willowrend when his guards evacuated the civilians out. His injuries would have slowed them down, as they were much worse than he had dared let on in front of Ibuki and Louis. Even if he could keep pace with the other animals, he was sure Melon would have followed him to Cherryton. And that would have defeated the entire point of evacuating his town.

Jimma hadn’t wanted to leave him on his own, but Oguma ordered the lion away. _Didn’t Louis, Crowned Prince of Westeros, give you orders?_ He had said at the lion’s hesitation, prompting the feline to finally subside and leave him with a wary glance.

It was better that way.

He wasn’t afraid to face the hybrid, not when on his own turf and terms.

Oguma opened a concealed drawer along the underside of his desk and pulled out a small vial with a viscous, clear liquid in it. He hoped Yuta had brewed it perfectly, otherwise he’d soon be in a lot more pain than he currently was.

He poured the contents of the vial into his wine.

Just in time too, because as he pocked the now empty vial, the door to his study burst open to reveal a white tiger and a harpy eagle. They both looked at him with disgust, and not a small amount of hunger.

Distantly, he heard other animals tearing apart his home, searching for something Oguma knew they would not find.

The two carnivores, whose eyes were clear and alive, never left his form. He wondered how they came to the decision they made to follow the hybrid. Were they angry at the herbivores? Victims of the war? Perhaps they were just frustrated and starving.

They lined themselves in front of the door, blocking Oguma’s only exit.

No matter, he wasn’t planning on escaping.

Out of a shadowy corner of the room, one that the candlelight on his desk didn’t quite reach, a figure melded out of the darkness, nocturnal eye shining a bright orange in the light.

The hybrid smiled at him, “Lord Oguma, what a surprise to find you here.”

Oguma forced a smile back.

“Melon, I’ve been expecting you. Please, have a seat,” he gestured to the chair across from him.

The hybrid stalked across the room and planted himself in the offered seat.

Oguma lifted the decanter, “Care for a drink?”

Without waiting for an answer, he filled the empty glass and slid it over to the mage.

Melon took the glass and held it up to his eye-level. Oguma could feel the hair on his arms start to stand on end as the static of magic filled the room.

Melon shot him a toothy grin, “I see you’re smart enough to not try and poison me. How gracious of you. I haven’t experienced this level of hospitality in a long while.”

The hybrid brought his feet up and rested his heels on the desk, lounging back in the chair.

“It’s a shame though, I have the most fun killing animals who try to kill me first. Though, you don’t seem to need much help in that department, considering your current condition.”

The hybrid eyed the deer’s injured side, could probably smell the infection that was making its home in his wounds.

“You’re looking a bit pale, Lord Oguma. Is that why you stayed behind? Or are you a captain going down with his ship?”

Oguma shrugged, “You would have found me either way, and I’m not one to run from the inevitable.”

Melon hummed, “No, I suppose you aren’t.”

Oguma lifted his own glass of wine, “Well, to facing our enemies with a smile.”

Melon grinned devilishly and brought his own glass forward to clink against Oguma’s.

The older stag watched the hybrid down his glass before he, in turn, did the same.

The abnormal sweetness underlying his own wine stuck thickly to his tongue.

Melon’s barbed, feline tongue licked his lips as he set his cup down, “I am quite disappointed, though, that you emptied your beautiful town. I do love the screams of animals burning alive. I was looking forward to it. It’s my _favorite_ sound after all _._ ”

He pulled his lips up in a snarling smile.

Oguma refused to let the other animal intimidate him.

“In fact,” the hybrid continued, “my visit has been disappointing in more ways than one.”

Melon leaned forward, “I was hoping I’d get to meet the new king of Westeros, after all. Along with a friend of his.”

Oguma gingerly placed his cup down, “I can’t say I’m sorry to disappoint. If I had it my way, and I do, my son is as far away from you as he can be.”

Melon leaned forward, bringing his feet down to rest his elbows against the desk, and placied his chin on clasped hands. His tufted tail waved behind him, calculatingly slow, like a metronome counting their steps as they danced around each other with a lethal delicacy.

“Why don’t you tell me _exactly_ how far away he is, and, maybe, I won’t make you beg before I finally kill you.”

Maybe it was the promise of his own impending doom, or the irony of the statement, but Oguma let out a bellowing laugh.

The hybrid’s smile melted off his face and into a scowl, his hands lowering onto the desk.

Oguma’s laughter dissipated into small, stuttering chuckles.

“I apologize,” he said, holding a hand to his mouth, “but your threats do not frighten me the way you intend them to.”

Oguma’s head started to feel like it was made of lead, and the world shifted under a sudden onset of vertigo.

“In fact,” Oguma continued, “you are little more than a maggot to me. A creature feasting on death with the hope that it will turn you into a menacing, unyielding wasp.”

One of the hybrid’s ears gave a sharp flick.

“But all you will become is a fly: insignificant, short-lived, and annoying.”

Oguma saw one of he hybrid’s hands twitch and then clench, like he was holding back from strangling the stag then and there.

Oguma’s vision was darkening around the edges. His heart was stuttering, trying to keep a proper rhythm, his limbs were numb.

But Oguma was not afraid.

“You should watch your tongue before I remove it,” Melon hissed as he leaned across the table, “Now, tell me where they went and I won’t skin your precious son alive before I send him to the afterlife with you."

The older stag smirked at Melon, his vision darkening and darkening, until he could see nothing.

His breath shortening, never to rebuild in his lungs again, Oguma used the last of it to say, “When Louis kills you, be sure to find me. I’ll show you all the wonders the God of Death has to offer.”

The hybrid watched on as the stag’s body lost it’s tension and his eyes glassed over, seeing nothing.

Melon stood from his chair and stalked over to the deer. He placed fingers on the side of the herbivore’s neck, where the jugular vein lay, and tutted.

“Spoken as if he knows anything about Death. How disrespectful.”

What a disappointing visit.

He turned to the tiger and eagle, “Tell me you’ve found something.”

“Nothing. There’s no trace of anyone else in town,” the eagle said.

Melon sighed in annoyance, giving the dead stag’s shin a kick in frustration.

Disappointing indeed.

Heavy stomps echoed through the wooden house as Riz appeared through the doorway.

“I’ve caught their scent.”

Melon perked up, perhaps this trip wasn’t a waste after all.

“And?” he urged impatiently.

“They headed east, down the road leading to the coast.”

“Ah, they’re going across the sea.”

Giving another glance at the stag, Melon decidedly pulled a dagger out from a bandoleer that lay across his chest.

“Looks like we have a ship to catch of our own, then.”

An hour later, the hybrid crossed through the gates of Willowrend with nary a glance backwards, a hoard loyal living and dead animals at his heel.

He left the smoldering remains of the town, sure that it would leave a clear message to the rest of the world.

If not, the antlered head of its Lord, dripping blood and mounted above the gates, certainly would.

* * *

Legosi had his eyes closed while he basked under the last rays of sunlight before they disappeared below the watery horizon.

His tail flicked lazily at his side as he sat, lounging against the ship’s railing. He was warm and content after spending the day climbing up the mast to repair tears in the sails that were the result of a storm _The Red Dahlia_ had encountered on its last voyage. He let his head lull against the wood in tune with the ship’s rocking, exhausted but pleased with the aches and pains that came with a productive day.

The ship would be coming upon the western coast of Essos soon, he could tell. The temperature had started getting warmer, hinting at their progress across the Narrow Sea. The orange sunlight warming his fur was at a pleasant temperature that King’s Landing didn't reach, even in the summer months. Though the humidity was still heavy in the sea air, the sun had increased in its intensity, changing from the feeble, superficial touch of Westeros’s sunlight and getting closer to the bone-seeping warmth Essos was known for.

The clashing of steel against steel provided a steady background noise against the open air. Legosi peeked one eye open as he watched Dolph and Agata spar in the middle of the ship’s deck. The rest of the Shishigumi pride were lounging against the opposite railing from him, waiting their turn and offering advice to the youngest as he struggled against Dolph’s heavy-handed swings. Though good at throwing knives, Legosi could tell that Agata’s close-quarters fighting needed work.

Tilting his head, Legosi saw Louis observing from the quarterdeck above. Legosi was glad to see the deer’s seasickness had subsided. He had begun to worry about the Louis’s health over their trip, but it seemed he had settled into his sea-legs after their private conversation the other evening.

Legosi was still in wonder over Louis’s life story. How such a fearless, regal animal had survived the hardest of herbivore origins was beyond Legosi’s imagination.

Legosi didn’t think he could admire Louis even more than he already had, but he figured he was a fool to expectotherwise with the red deer.

A familiar feeling stirred in his chest as he gazed upon Louis’s form, arms crossed and observant of his guards’ spar. The orange sunset complimented the color of his fur, brightened his eyes, the silhouette of his antlers splintered the sky like lighting

Legosi sighed, closed his eyes again, and thumped his head against the ship.

It was no secret to Legosi that he found herbivores to be absolutely stunning.

Ever since he met Haru when he was seventeen, young and lanky and still learning of the world, he had gained a fascination for herbivores in general. He thought most of them were quite beautiful.

He distinctly remembered the day he first saw Haru, her pristine white fur had shone against the dusty road that passed by their village. Her towering ears were elegant and curved. There had been a grace about her that Legosi had never noticed in any carnivores.

He had fallen in love with her at first sight, and fell even harder at her assertive attitude, so unconventional from any other herbivore he had ever met. The stark contrast between her frame and her demeanor had stirred up an interest in him that he never entertained before.

He and Haru had ended up courting each other for a time, but when Legosi left for Westeros, they decided it was best to go their own ways. To make her wait for him to return home would be such a disservice to Haru, and woe was Legosi to hold the dwarf rabbit back from her own happiness.

They still wrote each other on occasion, even though it was mostly Haru checking to make sure Legosi was still alive in the west. He still considered her one of his closest friends; however, the passage of time meant Legosi didn’t feel quite as smitten with her as he once was.

He hoped she had moved on, as he had. He wasn’t too worried about it though, he was the one who had been more infatuated in their relationship looking back.

That was Legosi’s vice. When he fell for another animal, he fell fast and hard.

After all these years, that was still a constant in his life.

Legosi opened his eyes again, and they automatically went to the deer’s form.

He knew the heat he felt creeping up his face and his ears wasn’t from the warm sunlight.

Why though? Why did it have to be Louis?

Legosi groaned and covered his eyes with one of his arms.

The gods must hate him.

From what he’d seen, Legosi doubted Louis would ever reciprocate the spark of puppy-love Legosi was starting to feel. In fact, he was sure Louis would straight-up stab him in his sleep if he caught a whiff of his blossoming crush.

Louis was courageous and smart and graceful.

His voice was like silk, his smile hid a sharp wit. His eyes were perceptive, and there was an air about him that just drew Legosi to Louis, made him hyper-observant to the deer’s location.

Legosi thought he was absolutely _stunning_.

He could still feel the tingle on his arm where Louis had placed his hand the other evening. He remembered the smiles he had gifted Legosi with, the camaraderie they had somehow built since meeting in the halls of the Red Keep. It feels like they had known each other a lot longer than actually they had.

But why?

Why did it have to the Prince, no, _King_ of Westeros? Why did it have to be the herbivore that could make Legosi kneel before him with a single glance?

Although, a small part whispered to himself, he wasn’t entirely against _th_ _at_ particular idea.

Legosi’s froze at that intrusive thought, and grumbled to himself.

Well shit.

Legosi didn’t think he was going to make it out of _this_ particular conundrum alive.

A shout and the bang of a sword against the wooden deck startled him out of his ruminations.

Agata was wincing and rubbing his wrist, sword laying on the deck out of his reach. Dolph had his own blade pointed at the younger lion’s chest victoriously.

“Not bad, kid,” Miguel said from the sidelines, “But you’re still not guarding your right side well enough. Remember, you’re arm isn’t protected just because you have a sword at the end of it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Agata grabbed his discarded weapon.

“Come back after my advice saves your ass in battle, and then say that to me,” Miguel admonished, but ruffled the younger cat’s mane affectionately as he passed by.

Dolph was all but bouncing on the balls of his feet, obviously itching to continue with another fight.

The lion’s eyes caught Legosi’s and he gave the wolf a smirk.

“Dog! Why don’t you show us this fighting of yours that Louis praised so much?”

Legosi sat up, glad to have a distraction, “Going to show me your longsword now, are you?”

“Shut it and get over here, you mutt!”

Legosi got to his feet and stretched his arms above his head, getting the kinks out of his muscles, “Don’t call me ‘mutt’.”

“Whatever you say, fuckface. Now come on, I’ve been itching to fight you for a while now.”

Legosi smirked as he freed his arakh from where it was strapped against his back.

“You think about me a lot, do you?” he shot back.

“Keep on talking you bastard, it’ll just make my swings stronger.”

Legosi walked until he was in front of the feline, starting to feel excited.

“Don’t hold back on my account then.”

Dolph flashed him a snarling smile, “With pleasure.”

Legosi turned so his unarmed side was facing Dolph, making his form smaller, harder to hit.

The few members of the crew who were out on the deck were looking over at them warily. Even Ellion, who sat at the helm, seemed interested.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw that Louis was leaning forward, ears and eyes positioned to catch every bit of the fight.

Legosi was determined to give them all a show.

Dolph moved first, running at him and swinging his sword at Legosi’s front.

He lifted his arakh, catching Dolph’s blade in the curve of his own and deflected it. Dolph stumbled as the angle of Legosi’s blade threw him off his trajectory.

The wolf took a few springing steps back as the lion gained his footing again. Dolph growled and thrust his sword at him again.

Left, right, down, at his feet. Legosi pranced away from each swing, hearing the metallic swish of the blade cutting through empty air with each swing.

The differences in their fighting styles were clear on display here. Dolph’s feet were placed in steady stances, and he relied on strong, wide swings of his sword, aiming for maximum damage.

On the other hand, Legosi was light on his feet, barely staying in one spot long enough to give the lion a clear target. His sword was more a defense, meant for deflecting and catching weapons at strange angles, though its point could give a mean kiss if Legosi wanted to deal some damage of his own.

Though their styles different, they were evenly matched for a while.

But Legosi had a strategy, one that slowly became evident as the spar was drawn out longer and longer.

Legosi smiled as Dolph grew more and more annoyed at his evasion. His movement became more erratic, his sword swings longer and lower.

The lion threw another wide swing, panting, “Stay still you stupid dog.”

Wolves had a lot of endurance, and Legosi could dance circles around most animals for hours if he wanted to. That was the nature of combat Gosha taught him: _if possible, let the enemy exhaust themselves_ for _you, and then..._

Dolph thrust his sword straight forward, the tip level with Legosi’s chest.

_...find an opening and strike!_

Legosi pivoted, letting the blade pass beside him harmlessly. His arakh clashed with the straighter steel, and the ringing of him running it down the length of Dolph’s sword rang through the air as he dashed towards the surprised lion.

He caught the decorative hilt of Dolph’s sword with the inside of his blade’s curve and twisted. Dolph gasped as he was forced to let it go or otherwise have his hand twisted with it.

Legosi spun, swinging the arakh around until Dolph’s unprotected neck was nestled in the curve of his blade.

And that was the end of that.

Dolph looked at him with widened eyes for a moment, before he seemed to realize his situation, “Son of a fucking bitch, where’d you learn to fight like that?”

Legosi withdrew his arakh, securing it into it’s resting place on his back, “My grandfather taught me.”

“He seems to be a man of many talents.”

Legosi turned at the sound of Louis’s voice. The deer had descended from his vantage point on the quarter deck and was walking towards them.

He looked approvingly at Legosi, “That was impressive. I’ve never seen anyone fight like you do.”

Legosi had to struggle to keep his tail from wagging at the praise.

“There’s a lot of raiders back home. My grandfather taught myself and the other carnivores at our village how to fight so we could protect everyone else. Plus, it’s easier to beat your enemies when they can’t catch you.”

“Such is the talent of a Kingsguard,” Ibuki chimed in, “I expected nothing less from one of King Yafya’s closest protectors.”

Ibuki looked at his underlings, “In fact - “

“Ah fuck, here we go,” Free said.

Ibuki continued as if uninterrupted, “Why don't we have a practice round with him right now.”

The other lions let out simultaneous groans.

Legosi couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up from his chest as the lions complained.

A softer chuckle came form beside him, and he found Louis looking at the felines like a father watching his children try to bargain sweets from their mother.

Legosi felt a tickle in his chest.

He made himself look away from the deer and towards the lions.

He humored Ibuki and directed the other lions run through a few fighting stances and footwork. By the time the sky was dark and the torches around the ship were lit, Ibuki called their practice off.

The lions shuffled, yawning and stretching, down the stairs that led to the crew’s bunk.

Louis lingered on the sidelines as they left, and Legosi thought he would retire to his chambers as well once his guards had disappeared.

But he surprised Legosi by walking up to his side instead.

“I didn’t really pay attention when we were escaping King’s Landing, but I meant what I said. Your fighting style _is_ quite incredible. You should have participated in the tournament. You would’ve knocked Bill down a few pegs at least.”

“You’d learn it easily,” he spouted out to the deer without thinking.

The deer raised a brow at the wolf.

“I mean, you’re a herbivore after all,” Legosi stuttered, trying to recover for his slip-up. “You’re already light on your feet. I could, uh, teach you...if you want me to that is.”

 _Shit, fuck, why did I say that? He doesn’t even use a sword!_ Legosi berated himself in his head.

“I’d like that.”

Legosi startled, not expecting such an answer, “R-really?”

Louis shrugged, “Sure. It could be useful in a pinch. And I like to try to keep up with my guards. I at least have to _try_ to not let them outclass me.”

“Right. Of course.”

They stood in silence for a moment, the sea breeze ruffling their clothing. The sails above them fluttered in the wind.

“I...don’t want what happened at the castle to happen again,” Louis said quietly.

“What do you mean?” Legosi prompted.

“I want to be able to protect myself. If I could have done that...maybe…” Louis trailed off, his eyes were directed at the floor but looking miles away.

Legosi waited patiently, letting the deer collect his thoughts.

“If I’m going to go to start a war, I want to have more than one kind of weapon up my sleeve,” he looked at Legosi with a conviction that had the wolf wanting to run into battle alongside him.

“It would be my honor to help you with that,” he said.

Louis held his gaze, and Legosi forced himself to as well.

Finally, Louis pulled his strong gaze off of the wolf, and Legosi let out a breath.

“Well...maybe we shouldn’t start in the middle of the night,” Legosi said, looking up at the half moon as it showered them in her light.

Louis gave a quite short, “You’re probably right.”

Legosi lowered his gaze, letting himself revel at the way the moonlight highlighted the curves of Louis’s antlers. Louis turned to him again, and Legosi quickly darted his eyes away.

“Speaking of, we should get some rest. Ellion said we should be docking within the next day or two.”

Legosi nodded in agreement, feeling the exhaustion from the day hit him fully. He bid the cervid good night and prided himself in _not_ watching Louis as he walked away.

Legosi groaned to himself and plopped down with his back against the main mast.

His ears pinned back against his head, he bashfully rubbed the back of his neck.

Gods, he really needed to get a grip.

The crew still skittered out of his way while they did their nightly duties. They still eyed him warily, like they were just waiting for the day he would go feral and attack.

The wolf sighed against the open air. He closed his eyes and let the sounds of the waves and the animals scurrying about distract him _._

“That was quite a show you gave us.”

Legosi opened his eyes and saw Ellion with a tin cup in his hand.

Legosi sat up straight, “Thank you, Captain.”

“Please,” Ellion waved him off, “As a passenger, there’s no need for such formalities.”

The herbivore held out his cup to Legosi, “Here, it’s water, You’ve been working hard after all.”

Legosi took the offering graciously, nodding to the other animal in gratitude. He sipped heavily at the water, realizing just how thirsty he was.

“I didn’t realize you were from Essos,” Ellion said casually.

“How could you tell?”

“The way you fight. It has a lot of Dothraki elements to it. Dornish as well, if my observations were correct?”

Legosi nodded and drank more water, not really tasting the coolness of it anymore, “Some. My grandfather worked as a mercenary before he settled down with my gran. He traveled a lot when he was younger, learning different fighting methods.”

“Of course. More weapons to use against your inferiors, how could he not.”

The sudden change in the conversation's tone made Legosi freeze. The hand that held the in cup shook slightly.

“What?”

Ellion shrugged, “Just an observation I’ve seen in my years. How the animals born with their own weapons always feel the need to collect more.”

Legosi’s felt his mouth open and close wordlessly, an appropriate reply escaping him.

In fact, a lot of words were escaping him at that moment.

His brain felt sluggish, his thoughts muddled. He tried licking his chops, but his tongue felt numb and cumbersome. He felt the arm holding the silver goblet lower without his permission. His body felt both heavy and feather-light at the same time. It had suddenly become a tremendous struggle to get his limbs to listen to his brain

“S...somethin’s wrong,” he slurred out.

When did he get so weak? Why was it so hard to move?

He looked to Ellion, hoping to find concern and help.

The eland simply crossed his arms, and met his worried eyes with indifference.

The last of the tone in his muscles left him like snow melting in the midday sun. He swayed and fell onto his side on the deck.

He struggled to sit up, flex his fingers, move his eyes around, but his body refused to respond to in any way besides his lungs inflating and his heart beating. His mind wide awake, all he could do was stare at the spilled cup of water as the liquid flowed in rivulets along the imperfections of the deck.

Wait...

Legosi’s breath caught.

“You know,” Ellion’s voice was calm, collected, “I never liked your kind.”

The sound of footsteps reached his ears before a pair of boots came into his field of vision.

“Most herbivores don’t. Although, House Elaphus has become quite...gullible when it comes to beggared carnivores such as yourself. It’s a shame really. Lord Oguma was such a formidable leader before his mockery of a son came along.”

Out of the corner of his eye, above where he lay, the eland crouched down in front of Legosi.

“Carnivores are such brutish creatures. They kill without remorse for their own selfish desires, for taste. But do you know which ones I hate the most?”

His hand reached out to tilt Legosi’s muzzle up, their eyes met and the herbivore’s eyes seemed to look past Legosi.

“The ones who pretend. The ones who cozy up to herbivores under the guise of _helping_ and _friendship_. The ones who try to get us to trust them. My mother made that mistake, and got her throat ripped out for her troubles.”

His hand tightened his hand on Legosi’s muzzle before he let go, letting Legosi’s head thud back against the deck.

Legosi wanted to growl, but couldn’t even manage a twitch of his lips to bare his teeth.

Ellion must have sensed his thoughts, because the antelope gave him a swift kick in the ribs.

Legosi wheezed out a quiet grunt, the air forced out of his lungs and the pain of a soon to be bruise at his side.

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned in this life, it’s that the only good carnivore is a dead one.”

Shit. Shit. Shit. This was bad.

Where was Ibuki? The other lions? Were they drugged too?

What about Louis? He was a herbivore, but Ellion didn’t talk of him like he was exempt from his ire.

Legosi struggled to get his muscles to move, but all he got was a short full-body tremble.

The large antelope motioned to one of his crew, who set about trying Legosi’s hands behind his back with a length of rope.

“Lucky for you, my friend pays me more for living animals rather than dead ones.”

Pays?

Wait…

Legosi felt the blood drain from his face.

 _Fuck_.

“In fact, one of his ships should be here soon.”

The rabbit restraining his hands cinched the rope round his wrists tight. His heart started racing. He tried to move his arms, shift his feet, _anything_.

Legosi knew exactly what was happening.

“He’ll find the perfect place for you, I’m sure.”

They didn’t come on this ship as passengers.

“After all, I hear Slaver’s Bay has the best hospitality.”

They were merchandise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> School has started up again for me and I've started studying for my licensing exam in November, so waits for chapters will probably be longer from here on out. As always, I hope you enjoyed reading!


	8. Igneous

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Depictions of panic attacks and PTSD

_Snow fell gently around him._

_The_ _only sound as he made his way through the empty forest was the_ _crunching_ _of_ _his boots sinking into_ _the_ _thick_ _layer of_ _powdery flakes_ _that covered the ground._

 _B_ _arren tree trunks towered over him,_ _giant pillars holding the blue and pink_ _dusk_ _sky at bay._ _The snow was up to his knees, and he_ _panted softly as he trudged through_ _its density_ _. Everything seemed so enormous,_ _o_ _r maybe he was just small._

 _He was looking for something, but he didn’t know what. The_ _forest_ _revealed no secrets as_ _h_ _e went further in._

 _He_ _was_ _calling_ _something_ _out_ _into the empty air, a question_ _. He could feel the vibrations_ _of_ _his vocal cords in his throat,_ _could feel his lips making shapes,_ _but_ _couldn’t make out any sounds._

 _T_ _he_ _woods_ _stood as still and silent as the dead. Not even the wind answered his c_ r _ies_

_He called again._

_What was he saying? He felt his stomach flipping with thinly veiled worry. He cast his eyes to and fro, searching. Was he looking for someone?_

_The wide skeleton tree trunks stood tall and silent, tombstones in the midst of a winter drought._

_Dread pulled at his stomach. He called out louder, frantic, his eyes burning._

_He brushed past the trunk of a gargantuan pine tree._

_He_ _froze, a dark animal-like shape appearing before him,_ _ominous and_ _unmoving._

_He felt his throat tear as he screamed._

**B** **ang**!

Louis bolted upright at the startling noise, quickly blinking the bleariness of sleep from his eyes, heart already pounding as he was jerked from is dream.

Another loud bang, and the door to his makeshift room was flung open, lock destroyed. Instinct had him moving before he could register the animals that filled the doorway. Louis leapt to his feet, stance widened. He found himself facing a large water buffalo and a boar, both with swords in hand. He didn’t recognize them as being a part of Ellion’s crew, and that set him on edge.

Out of the corner of his vision, propped against the wall, he eyed his bow and arrows. He flung himself towards the weapon.

The buffalo rushed him and Louis was knocked to the ground, his back slamming into the floor mercilessly. His attempt to get up was thwarted when the buffalo pushed his back down with a foot to Louis’s chest. Louis grunted as the air was forced out of his lungs. His hands flew to the boot, pushing at it, but his strength wasn't much against a full grown buffalo.

The ungulate rested his blade against his shoulders languidly, looking down at Louis like he was nothing more than an insect he found on the road. Louis sneered at him; he refused to let the larger animal intimidate him.

“ _Iksis bisa se mēre?_ ” The buffalo turned to the boar, speaking in a language Louis didn’t recognize.

The boar shrugged, “ _Konīr issi daor tolie mele myrdys va bisa lōgor, ēdruta sagon_.”

The buffalo grunted noncommittally before bending down and grabbing Louis’s arm.

“Unhand me!” he demanded. Ignored, he was yanked to his feet roughly.

He shouted more curses at the buffalo, and then some at the boar when it grabbed onto one of his antlers in an effort to prevent Louis from head-butting either of them. Louis all but growled in indignation, swinging his free arm to take a swipe at the swine.

A male’s antlers, a cervid’s especially, were precious to them. They were more than a status symbol, they were their pride, an homage to the ancestors who once used them as fierce armament, the bedrock of their survival. To disrespect them was to disrespect an animal’s entire lineage. It was a heinous violation. Any animal who dared to desecrate the antlers of another usually ended up loosing an appendage. If they were lucky, that is.

Louis renewed his efforts to dislodge the animals holding his arms, but, unsurprisingly, one measly red deer posed no threat to them. His words and struggling went ignored by the foreign animals as they hauled him onto the deck.

Outside, Louis saw a ship of similar size but distinctly different design floating next to theirs. A wide wooden plank connected the two ships, and animals he both recognized as Ellion’s crew members and strangers ran back and forth across the plank, transferring items and chatting like old friends.

Louis looked about, as much as he could anyway with the boar holding his skull in place, the fucker. The animals around him either didn’t notice him or chose to ignore his predicament. Louis’s eyes widened as he found the large form he was searching for.

“Ellion!” he shouted above the rabble to the eland, who was conversing with a zebra in what Louis presumed to be the same language his captors had spoken in. He hoped the animal could explain, would recognize the mistake his captors had made and come over demanding they release his guest.

The other herbivore turned and looked at Louis. The other animal’s eyes were hard and cold.

Louis’s hope disappeared. He realized that, whatever was happening, the Ellion was not ignorant of it. He clenched his fists.

Ellion turned back to the zebra, spoke one other sentence. The zebra nodded and handed him a large bag. The sound of jingling coins rang across the sea air as it was passed to Ellion.

Bowing to the zebra, Ellion walked over to Louis, his eyes roving over the coins in the bag he received.

“What is the meaning of this?” Louis demanded as he approached.

“I apologize for the inconvenience, My Lord. But you provided me with a business opportunity I just couldn’t pass up.” Ellion took a coin from the bag and inspected it under the torchlight.

“‘A business opportunity’?” he looked around furiously for his lions, for Legosi, but there was no sign of them.

“If you’re looking for you guards, you won’t find them. They’ve already been moved to the other ship. Don’t worry, the men won’t hurt you. Although, I can’t guarantee the same for your...friends.”

Louis tensed, the buffalo tightened his grip on him in response. He grit his teeth together and glared at the larger animal, his voice rising, _“_ I will remember what has happened here. What do you think you are doing? Your family has sworn themselves to _my_ Hou-””

“I don’t care.”

Words escaped Louis at the blasé statement. Ellion, having put his coins away and placing all his attention to the red deer before him, stalked forwards until his face was mere inches away from Louis’s.

“Out of respect for your Father, I won’t kill you,” he divulged. “As far as he will know, I did my job and dropped your party off at Myr. What happened after? Well, I wouldn’t know anything about that, would I? People disappear all the time in the east. Your story won’t be any different.”

Louis stood dumbfounded, a feeling like lead dropping into his stomach rooted him in place.

“The world is cruel, and you, Louis, are a fool. Fools don’t last long in a cruel world.”

Ellion turned to the buffalo, “ _Gūrogon zirȳla naejot_ _M_ _arius. Ivestragī zirȳla iderēbagon skoros naejot gaomagon rūsīr zirȳla_.”

Ellion spat at Louis’s feet and hissed, “Enjoy the rest of your trip, carnivore _whore_. _”_

Louis stood, stunned, as he watched the retreating form of the ship’s captain, before he narrowed his eyes and grit his teeth together.

He flared his nostrils, determined to committing the man’s face to his memory as the buffalo pulled him across the wooden gangplank.

They drug him down below the deck of the foreign ship, thin rays of torchlight streamed through the floorboards of the deck above them as they pulled him towards the bow of the ship.

The only thing he could make out were rows upon rows of iron cages bolted to the floor. Some had animals in them, some didn’t. None he saw housed any lions or wolves.

So many cages…lines and lines of them. Never-ending.

Water dripped onto the floor from above.

Reflexively, Louis’s mind brought up another dark, damp place. One he didn’t like to think about.

His heartbeat suddenly sounded very loud in his ears.

There was a weight on his chest. It was getting harder to breathe.

Louis started to dig his feet into the ground, struggling more against the hand around his arm.

Was that a set of eyes peering at him through the darkness? Judging and hungry? Or was that the trick of the light?

He swore he heard the distant sound of children crying.

But for a tightening of his grip, the buffalo didn’t react to his renewed struggles.

They stopped at the furthest cell. The boar fished out a ring of large, metal keys and unlocked the door. Louis’s eye widened, heart almost stopping at the sight.

No, no, no.

_Don’t put me back in there._

“Wait, no.”

The buffalo shoved Louis in, and as Louis whirled around back for the opening, frantic, only to have it slammed in his face. The thunk of the bolt being slid into place was a shock-wave crash of thunder in the storm that was tearing through his consciousness.

“No, please!”

The two animals left him, as if he were nothing but a crate of supplies and not a living, breathing creature.

They ascended the stairs. The trap door leading below the deck was slammed closed.

Then there was just darkness.

Louis’s breathes came fast and short. The air was too thin. He couldn’t see, the darkness was closing in around him.

He yelled and slammed his hands against the cage’s door. The iron hinges rang in the bleak air, but didn’t relent under the force.

“Let me _out_!”

He hit the door again. _Slam_.

He could hear the whimpers of other animals around him.

No.

 _Slam_.

This couldn’t be happening again.

His hands stung, the iron bars rang.

“ _Dont worry, they said they’d give you a sleeping drought before they devoured you._ _”_

He had _promised_ himself it wouldn’t happen again.

 _Slam_.

“ _Where’s Number Four?_ _”_

_Slam_

“ _Don’t tell me you lost him!”_

S _lam_.

“ _Give him to me!”_

 _Slam_.

 _Slam_.

 _ **Slam**_.

Pain shot up his arm as his palm caught on a sharpened defect in the metal. Louis hissed, cradling it against his chest.

In the newfound silence, all he could hear was his own ragged, uneven breaths.

All he could feel was his hands shaking.

Nobody spoke.

He was alone.

Louis backed himself into a corner of the small cell and slid down onto the floor. He pulled his knees to his chest. His heart was beating fast, he could feel the pulsing of blood in his jugular.

Calm down, calm down.

Louis took one deep, shaky breath. Two.

The smell of burning cloth reached his nose, and he only then realized that both of his arms were simmering with unreleased heat.

They were warm, solid. Once more, his fire was his only friend.

He hugged his arms around his chest, letting the heat of his magic engulf him.

He focused on the metal bolts digging into his back, kept his mind on the nearly-painful heat his magic was giving off.

 _Breathe_ , a voice that sounded suspiciously like Ibuki’s said in his head, _breathe before you set the ship on fire and kill us all_.

Though he felt like he would drown, Louis took a long breath through his nose and let it sit in his lungs before he uneasily let it out.

_Just breathe._

He did this again, and again, and slowly he started getting a hold of his head. His heart still flailed against his ribs like a fish caught in a net, but he eventually was able to gain control of the terror that had overtaken him.

He didn’t know how long he was left in there. He remained curled up in his corner, residual tremors rattling his body. The light filtering in through the panels of the top deck got lighter sometimes, and sometimes they faded. It never had any real impact on the darkness surrounding them. Sometimes he dozed off and woke up wondering if his life had been just a dream, if he was still the frail fawn awaiting his demise at the hands of a ravenous stranger.

In his waking hours, Louis focused on the ship’s rocking, the creak of the wood pushing back against the waves. The rocking and subsequent queasiness he feltwould steady him, remind him of what was real and what wasn’t. None of the crew ventured down. They offered no water, no food, nothing. And so Louis fought alone against his own consciousness, his own memories.

A part of him wished for Ibuki to be next to him, but another balked at the thought of a carnivore’s eyes peering at him from the other side of the metal bars. The more he imagined it, the more his already wired prey heart jolted against his chest.

He went through the eyes of his lions, their ranges of colors, the variations of their eye shapes, trying to find some form of comfort in them. Instead, all he imagined was the blood-lust of strangers, licking their lips in anticipation. He felt himself starting to hyperventilate again.

Frantic, he scrounged his brain for a different set of eyes. His father’s? No. His friends’? Pft, what friends. Whose….whose….

A pair of soft green and gold.

Sharp, but gentle.

He stilled.

Though the thought of the wolf’s gaze shrouded him in a feeling of alien ambivalence, he found his shoulders lowering. His body uncurled, just a little.

“ _You are a very strong animal, My Lord.”_

“Dumb wolf,” Louis whispered to himself, though it lacked any fire.

Those eyes, they were a carnivore’s. And, yet, they made him feel...safe.

He wondered if Legosi was alright.

A loud slam echoed across the ship. Louis flinched and squinted his eyes shut against the sudden onset of sunlight that erupted through the darkness of the ship’s underbelly.

He heard light, hurried footsteps approach. Louis tensed and shuffled into a crouch.

Blurry against his unadjusted eyes, a red-ruffed lemur appeared before his cage. Beside her was the boar who had put him in the cell in the first place. Louis gave the animals an icy glare.

“Hello,” the lemur, a female, greeted him happily.

Louis pressed his back against the cell, tilted his antlers forward, and snapped “What do you want?”

The primate furrowed her brow at his hostility, before cheerfully continuing, “I am here to escort you into the city per my Master. He has been expecting you, young deer. Please, if you would follow me, I shall take you to him.”

The boar unlocked his cage door, the hinges squealing as it opened.

Louis eyed the herbivores before him with suspicion, after all one of them had touched his antlers and threw him into a cell. He had a feeling that trusting this new, friendly face would lead him to someplace worse.

But, his only other option was staying in his dark corner, waiting for the inevitable buyer to claim him as their meal.

No, wrong, he’s not there.

Louis gave his head a shake, emptying his thoughts.

Well, he wasn't going to accomplish much cowering in the dark. And no matter what horrors might await him, he’d rather dive into them headfirst than stay in that oppressing cell for one second longer.

The lemur gave a brilliant smile as he stood up from his corner and followed her out. He glared at the boar, wrenching his arm out of the animal’s grasp as it made to lead him out.

The lemur, Lerysa she introduced herself as, led him to a rickshaw pulled by a yak. Lerysa addressed their driver in the foreign tongue, and they were making their way through the city.

In the open air once again, Louis felt the sun beat down against him with an intensity he had never felt before. His nostrils breathed in air that was pleasantly warm. The sky reached wide across the land, cloudless and infinitely azure. Every building they passed were hewn from rough, buff stone. The streets lining them were clean and filled with the hum of life. Hardy shrubs and olive trees sprung towards the sky between loose gravel and rocky crevices, accentuating the stucco architecture. In the distance, he could make out the ruins of what used to be three large pyramidal towers.

“Where am I?” he asked breathlessly.

“This is Meereen, the most formidable city of Slaver’s Bay. Here, you will find the finest and rarest of goods from all over both Essos and Westeros!” Lerysa replied cheerfully, gesturing across the stone buildings and bustling merchants.

He’d heard of Mereen, it was the central hub of the Black Market before the war. It was every herbivores nightmare: a city solely focused on the trading and exploitation of flesh, no matter the origin. They said the stench of blood would spread miles out from the city center, that the scarlet essence of life would bathe the streets and flow into the harbor, giving it the name the Gulf of Grief. It was seized in the war, the stalls burnt to ashes and every last citizen slain for their sins.

Looking out though, he never would have guessed. The city was filled with a plethora of herbivores, who milled about the streets. There was the shouting of merchants ushering their goods, children laughing as they chased each other about, wives gossiping as they filled baskets with bread and fruit. They looked content and carefree, adorned in fine clothes and precious metals.

When he looked closer, he realized the reason for their tranquility.

“No carnivores,” he uttered to himself as he scanned the crowds.

“Yes, our Great Master has closed off the city to those who consume meat. As a herbivore, you have no need for fear here,” his guide clasped her hands together with a smile.

“And who is this Great Master of yours?”

“He has asked me to not speak of him until you meet face to face,” Lerysa leaned close, and whispered coyly, “He has a flair for the dramatic, you see.”

Louis had to agree once they reached their destination.

The Great Master’s house was less a house and more of a palace, complete with gaudy fountains, marble statues, and brilliant exotic flowers crammed into any open space. The inside was even worse. Louis’s eyes burned at the clashing tones of the numerous vases, intricately woven rugs and the cramped, patterned, unnaturally bright green vines and leaves painted along the entirety of the walls.

Lerysa led him to a large set of oak doors, lined with gold leaf and carvings of promiscuously posed nude animals.

Louis grimaced.

“Our Great Master awaits inside,” Lerysa bowed to Louis and opened the intricate door for him.

Louis took a steadying breath and entered, ready to face the nobility of a slave city.

The room was lavishly furnished, with ornate rugs, tables, and couches. Paintings lined the entirety of the room, the stoic gazes of tempera animals bearing into the room’s newcomer. A fire was roaring in a white hearth, despite the amiable weather.

“Welcome!” a voice called from the other side of the room.

The animal who had addressed him was sitting on one of the sofas. He was a chimpanzee who seemed about a decade older than Louis. His dark, forward facing eyes roamed over Louis’s form, observing. The animal gave him a friendly smile, but Louis could make out the shape of broad shoulders and muscular arms beneath the silk robe the animal wore.

Louis stayed by the doorway, eyeing possible escape routes.

The ape leapt to his feet, seeming oblivious to Louis’s reluctance, and traversed the room to hold a hand out to Louis.

“You must be the red deer I have heard so much of! Ellion told me he was sending a herbivore with his newest shipment, you must be him. It’s a pleasure!”

Like Legosi, the ape’s words were embellished with the accent of someone who had not grown up in Westeros. Though, where Legosi’s was more melodic and rolling, Marius’s was fluid and piquant.

Louis eyed the outstretched hand warily, “Ellion told you about me?”

“Yes, or well his messenger did. You poor thing. Being kidnapped by carnivores is a dreadful experience, trust me I know.”

He was sure Ellion would have told the man in front of him to decapitate him on site, if his last words to Louis had indicated. So, someone on the ship had been looking out for him, lying for him. A scout sent by his father, perhaps? Or maybe he was just lucky?

For now, Louis figured he should play along with the lie. He reached out with a fake hesitancy and shook the ape’s hand.

“Yes, it was terrifying. I guess they wanted to wait until they were safe from Westeros’s forces before eating me.”

The chimpanzee tutted, “A terrible lot, all of them. But don’t you worry, they’ll get their comeuppance. How was your trip?”

“As good as it could be in a cell,” Louis uttered, not able to keep the bitterness out of his voice.

“Cell? What? Did you not…” the chimpanzee trailed off, as a fierce darkness enveloping the ape’s face. He pushed past Louis and wrenched the door open.

“ _Lerysa!_ ”

“Yes sir?” the lemur darted into the doorway, bowing at the waist.

“Lerysa, _darling_ ,” he purred darkly, the smile on his face a bit too wide, “Did you retrieve our guest from the holding cells when you brought him from my ship?”

“I...yes sir.”

“And who, pray tell, was it that put him in there?”

“T-That was...Jalla and Aemond, Master,” she averted her eyes, wringing her small hands together.

The chimpanzee hummed and crossed his arms over his chest, towering over the lemur.

“Have Jalla and Aemond escorted to my chambers. It seems I need to give them a lesson in manners.”

The lemur’s eyes widened.

“Do I need to repeat myself?” the ape demanded.

Lerysa flinched, “No sir! I will bring them immediately.”

The ape’s teeth gleamed as he smiled at the smaller primate, “That’s a good girl, no run along and make it quick.”

The door slammed shut in the lemur’s face. Louis watched, anxiously, as the man gave an exasperated sigh and straightened his clothes.

“I am so terribly sorry, I told them to make your accommodations comfortable. I assure you, my men will be _severely_ punished.”

The ape spun to face him, his expression taking on a cheery frontage, “But enough of that, my boy! Let me introduce myself. My name is Marius Sand.”

“Sand?” Louis inquired as he begrudgingly let Marius usher him to one of the sofas.

“It’s a name given to bastard children in Dorne, where I am from. And what of you? What do they call you?”

It probably wasn’t a good idea to give Marius his real name. Word should be spreading around Westeros now about Louis of House Elaphus, the red deer who was pronounced as King Yafya’s heir.

Louis’s mind darted around, pinpointing on an old story book he Oguma had bought him as a child.

“My name is Adler,” he said with as much conviction as he could muster. “I hail from a farm just outside the Mountains of the Vale, in Westeros.”

The chimp poured the deer a cup of water, squeezing some juice out of a lime into the liquid before handing it to Louis.

“You were taken from your home by the carnivores Ellion sent me, I assume? Dreadful. I know how terrible it is to be in the hands of animals that want to devour you. But I want to assure you, Adler, that you are safe here. Carnivores hold no power over us herbivores in Slaver’s Bay if I have anything to say about it. And I do, since I own it.”

Marius smiled, showing elongated canines that looked foreign on an animal whose diet mostly consisted of roots and fruit.

Unease settled in Louis stomach at the sight, he hid his scowl behind the offered cup of water as he took a drink.

While his outward appearance betrayed nothing, his mind was running wild. He wasn’t sure what the animal in front of him wanted, why he was treating to Louis as a guest. With the few minutes they’ve been in the same room, reading Marius was proving to be a challenge to untangle, especially with the whiplash personality changes.

Carnivores were easy. Louis knew their desires, their wants. Even before he was able to understand any sort of spoken word, he learned carnivore body language at a very early age. It was the only way he could understand the animals around him before he escaped the Market’s clutches.

Carnivores: they wore their emotions on their ears, with their tails, it made up the seams of their stances and embellished the small changes in their body language. He could tell when they were submissive, when two were friends or enemies, when they were keeping secretes.

He could tell when they were hungry.

They all had obvious tells, even his lions. Every now and again, he would catch an invasive, hungry look from them. It would be subtle: a flick of the tail, a lick to the lips, a moment frozen as they caught his scent. It meant nothing, just a passing thought in their meat deprived minds reminding them of what they were, of what Louis was.

He suppressed a shudder, a portion of his psyche still recovering from the uneasiness of the past few days.

He trusted carnivores to be nothing more than what they were: bound by instinct. His lions cared for him, yes, but they were still bound by their carnivorous bonds. The first animal to completely challenge that thought had been, well, Legosi.

But herbivores…

They could be tricky.

Their aggression was passive, fighting more with words and displays than fists and swords. They postured and insulted from a distance where carnivores would be in the dirt brawling. They fought with gossip and manipulation, aiming to destroy a person’s pride rather than their bodies.

Maybe it was because he hadn’t even seen normal, well-adjusted herbivores until he was five, but Louis had a much harder time telling what they were thinking.

And primates were on an entire different level.

They unnerved Louis. It was their faces, he thought, so easily manipulated by their wearer. Wide smiles that showed off their teeth and gums. Eyes that hid a dark discernment. They tended to watch other animals from a distance, and had the intelligence to match their outright strength. They technically were herbivores, like Louis, but they were conniving and deceitful. They were above other herbivores, above carnivores, on their own level of existence that didn’t quite match any other group of animals.

So, naturally, Louis didn’t trust the ape a single bit.

He would play his game, find out what was happening, where his guards were, make a plan, and get out.

To do that, he needed to gain Marius’s trust.

“That’s...I’m thankful. You see, I was…” he curled his arms against his abdomen, acting embarrassed, cowed. “I was born into the Black Market.”

He made his hands shake as he took off his right boot and showed the number to Marius, whose eyes narrowed at the brand on the sole of his foot. Yes, good, Louis wanted to stir up some sympathy from the chimp.

“As I said,” Marius lifted a pant’s leg to show the number 33 branded into the skin of his ankle. “Dreadful.”

Louis frowned, not needing to act.

“Why am I here?”

Marius chuckled, “Well I believe you already told me why.”

“No, I mean why am I sitting here with you? Meereen is a part of Slaver’s bay and, well...I guess I’m not sure why I’ve been spared from the ‘slave’ part.”

“Oh, my boy, I would _never_ put an animal like you into the slave market.”

Marius leaned back in his seat languidly, taking in the city sights just beyond the room’s windows.

“Meereen used to be the central hub of the Black Market, the most profitable city in Essos, built on the bones of animals like us. When your Westerosi forces brought it down after the war, I saw an opportunity to repay these animals back for all they had brought upon us herbivores. Your armies did most of the work, killing all the Black Market merchants. It didn’t take long to get the following or the money I needed to convert this place.”

Marius turned from the window and his eyes bore into Louis’s, confident and absolute, like a god looking down at one of his worshipers.

“You see, Adler, I sell carnivores. For servitude, for fighting, for parts, for...more unsavory activities that I don’t partake in but some customers pay extremely well for.”

Louis’s hands clenched against his glass of water, it was a struggle to maintain his neutrally curious expression. This animal...

Marius leaned forward, a prideful grin plastered on his face.

“After all, it’s only what they deserve. Don’t you agree, my friend?

Louis lowered his ears, willing his sudden storm of anger down.

He rubbed his eyes, attempting to ground his emotions.

“Oh, dear me, you must be exhausted,” Marius moved to help him up from the sofa, keeping Louis close to his side as if he were coddling a child. “Forgive me for keeping you so long, Adler. Please, let me set a room up for you. It will be a few days before the next ship to Westeros departs. I assure you, you will live as comfortable as I do while you are here.”

Louis nodded, complying for now.

After all, if he wanted to get the others out of this place, he’d need his rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact: as someone who loves snakes and sharks, chimpanzees are one of the few animals that legitimately terrify me.
> 
> Sorry for the delay, like I said, school is in full swing for me! But I'm having a lot of fun developing the lore of westeros/essos in relation to the themes of Beastars within this story, so I hope you all are enjoying it as well! Stay safe and have a wonderful day everyone!


	9. Playing with Fire

When Legosi gained consciousness he immediately noticed two things. One: he was no longer sailing on a ship. There was a distinct absence of the salty scent of the sea air and the rhythmic rocking of the floor beneath him that he had grown accustomed to on _The Red Dahlia_.

The second was the metal basket muzzle secured to his face.

He blinked his eyes open and immediately squinted against a harsh band of sunlight shining through a window. The ground he was lying on was rough and natural. He shifted his head and felt dirt cling to his fur. Legosi racked his mind for how he ended up where he was. The paralytic Ellion had spiked his water with must have eventually dragged him into unconsciousness. He remembered a second ship, new animals speaking in the characteristic slang of Low Valyrian to Ellion and his crew. He remembered them dragging the limp forms of the Shishigumi lions out from their bunks below deck. But then...nothing

Slowly, shakily, he lifted himself off the floor so he was sitting upright. Legosi groaned against the throbbing of his head. His entire body hurt, like he had gotten into a fistfight with a bull elephant. He shook his head, the metal muzzle knocking against his nose. His tried to move his arms, still flimsy from the paralytic, to his face to rip the uncomfortable garment off, but found resistance.

Looking down, he saw hefty iron shackles clamped on both wrists. They were chained to a harness around his waist. Lifting his arms again, he could only raise them to the level of his chest before the chains restricted any further movement.

Great. Just perfect.

Letting out a small, annoyed growl, he shifted his attention to his surroundings.

He was in a dungeon. A very strangely shaped dungeon.

The wall to his right wasn’t really a wall, but a barrier made from iron cage bars.

His left was open, leading further down a curving hallway illuminated by torchlight.

The two walls in front of and behind him were made out of rough, tan stone. The wall in front of him had small portholes where the setting sun was beaming through. They were small, Legosi wasn’t sure he’d even be able to stick his head through.

Through them he saw an open, circular area. Weapon racks holding a wide array of instruments were set up, holding all sorts of swords, axes, daggers, hammers, and shields. The ground seemed scuffed up, dark with dull, red, splash-patterned stains sprinkled about. Metal bars crisscrossed above them and up towards the sky, creating an open-air dome. Past the dome stood tall stone stands, meant to hold an audience.

One of Meereen’s infamous fighting pits.

Legosi furrowed his brows, anger and worry simmering in his gut. He had heard of how carnivores were treated in Slaver’s Bay. If they caught you, your life was as good as over, whether it be from death or slavery.

If you were particularly unlucky though, you would be conscripted to battle in the fighting pits. It was a popular form of entertainment for the seedier population of Essos. Animals were forced to fight, while the audience cheered, drank, and placed bets. They were always to the death. Refusal to fight was met with torture until you agreed.

Legosi tucked his tail. He was a large carnivore, a wolf at that. That made him prime entertainment material.

He pushed away that train of thought for later when he heard a groan, and then an affronted, “The fuck is this shit?”

“Free? Is that you?” he said as he grabbed the cell bars and poked his head through them to get a better look. Legosi perked up at the sight of the lion, also cuffed and muzzled, slowly siting up in the cell next to his.

All the lions were in the cell with Free, propped up along the walls or laid out on the dirt floor. They were still unconscious from the effects of whatever drought Ellion’s crew had given them. Legosi let out a relived sigh. At least he wasn’t alone.

The scarred lion made to rub his face, but narrowed his eyes when the motion was aborted by the chains around his wrists.

“Sure is, you cur. Care to tell me why I’m handcuffed in a dungeon? I like kinky shit as much as the next man, but a guy needs to be warned first.”

“We’re in Slaver’s Bay. Meereen, I think specifically,” Legosi kicked a stray pebble, gritting his teeth as it bounced off the wall. “Ellion sold us out. Turns out he has a thing against carnivores.”

Free bared his teeth and hissed, “That ass-faced bastard, no wonder all the compliments he gave us sounded like shit.”

Legosi let himself smile at the insult, but it was short lived.

“Do you know where Louis is?”

Free paused, a look of panic on his face, “Shit, _fuck_ , I have no idea. You think he’s back on the ship?”

Legosi felt his stomach tighten, “You didn’t see him when you were conscious?”

“Whatddya mean ‘conscious’? Last time I was conscious, Ibuki was on our ass about training.”

“No, the drug. The effect wasn’t instantaneous. I was aware for a bit before I passed out.”

“Well, I was in bed! I don't know how the fuck I got here!”

Another voice groaned, “Free, shut up. Gods, how much did I drink last night?”

“Agata!” Both Legosi and Free exclaimed at the younger lion’s voice.

“I-” the younger lion looked at his shackled wrists. “...what did you do this time, Free?”

-

After rousing the rest of their group, complete with disgruntled shouting and a few half-hearted death threats, Legosi caught the entire party up on their predicament. He gave a brief rundown of being offered the drugged water by the herbivore, and everything Ellion had said to Legosi when he was paralyzed. How he never intended to take them to Myr and his reasoning for it.

“This isn’t good,” Ibuki said, peering out at the arena.

“Yeah, no shit,” Miguel huffed from his corner. “What are we supposed to do?”

“Louis isn’t with us. What if he’s…” Agata trailed off, and there was a morose silence as he voiced their shared fear.

After a moment, Ibuki spoke, “Louis is smart.”

The others nodded, backing up the statement as if anyone would disagree with it.

With renewed confidence, Ibuki continued, “Not only is he smart, he’s stubborn and resourceful. Whatever situation he’s in, I’m positive he can get himself out of it. What we need to focus on right now is finding a way _we_ can escape and help him.”

“What if he’s back on the ship?” Miguel pondered.

“I don’t think he is,” the lone wolf said.

The lions all turned to Legosi at the statement.

“Ellion didn’t speak as if he was fond of him,” he elaborated. “So, maybe Louis’s here too?”

“In a cell?” Ibuki asked.

Legosi shrugged his shoulders, “Slaver’s Bay tends to only deal in carnivores, but...I guess it’s possible.”

“Maybe the bastard threw him into the ocean,” Dolph crossed his arms, scowling.

Ibuki glared at him.

“What?” Dolph said defensively, “If what Legosi said is right, then it’s a possibility! You _know_ it is, Ibuki! Everyone’s just being too chicken-shit to say it.”

“We will cross that bridge _if_ we reach it,” Ibuki snapped back. Dolph muttered under his breath, but looked away, backing down.

The oldest lion sighed and reached to rub his face, glowering when the chains restricted him.

“Okay, for now, we focus on ourselves. The first step to getting to Louis is to find a way to get out of here.”

Ibuki pointed past Legosi, toward the opposite, open end of his cell.

“Legosi, go see where your cell leads. Map out the area, look for anything that could help us. We’ll go the opposite. Maybe there’s a faulty door or a defect we can dig through. We will all meet back here and share what we’ve found.”

Legosi nodded, relieved to have a duty to fulfill. Maybe now he wouldn’t feel so useless.

He ventured down the curving passageway, Ibuki’s commanding voice echoing behind him.

As he walked, he found the passage to be long and circular. He tried to measure it through the small windows scattered along the wall, peering out into the fighting pit. It seemed the cells stretched around the entire arena, under the stone stands where the audience would sit and observe. He figured the cell the lions were in would go around the opposite side of his. Maybe they would meet up with each other at the end.

The dungeon itself was barren of anything. No sources of water, no furniture, nothing but the torches lining the walls. It sat silent as a grave, and Legosi found himself longing for one of the lion’s bantering to break the macabre aura of it. Especially when he found the occasional set of bones lying along the walls. At one point, he happened upon a body, bloated and decayed beyond recognition. The only thing he could make out was a gaping wound on it’s side that looked like it was made by teeth.

He shivered and hurried past it, wishing he could put his hand over his nose to ward off the smell.

His expectation of meeting the others at the end of the corridor came up short when he was stopped by a dead end a quarter of the way around the arena.

He cursed softly to himself at the barren stone wall. To the right was a thick wooden door with a small, barred window at Legosi’s eye level. Peering through, all he saw were a darkened set of stairs leading upwards. Chains rattling, Legosi grabbed the handle of the door and yanked. Unsurprisingly, it didn’t budge.

Legosi sighed in disappointment, turning back to the dead end. There was a small hole in the stone that he could perhaps fit his muzzle through, but nothing else. It was something at least. Maybe he could dig through it if need be.

Legosi scuffed his boot against the floor, frustrated with his lack of luck.

Disappointed, he turned to make the trek back to where he started.

“ _I can smell you, dragonling._ ”

Legosi froze and felt his hackles stand on end. Out of nowhere, the sensation of magic all but engulfed him.

He felt the ghostly sensation of sand sifting through his fingers. The smell of brimstone, accented with the prickly scent of ash, scorched his nose. His face felt wind-burnt.

Fire magic. Much like Louis’s but it felt different, more raw. The aura flowed around him like a burst dam. He felt another sensation as well, something unidentifiable that hinted at an immense power.

The low, baritone voice had rumbled from behind him, from the dead end. The words had been spoken in a language that was dead to most of Essos, but Legosi knew it. It was the language of his grandparents. The language of his mother. It was the language of the lullabies she had sung to him when he was a pup, the language she only shared with him growing up, their little secret code. He could never forget it.

Legosi turned around slowly and faced the stone once more.

“ _I am no dragonling_ ,” he answered cautiously, the language sparked off his tongue with a viscous familiarity. He raked his eyes over the area, trying to find where the voice was coming from.

“ _Ah_ , y _ou speak High Valyrian,”_ the voice sounded surprised and pleased. “ _No animal has answered me in my language in a long time. They only speak that bastardized version of my mother tongue. It is nice to have a conversation after so long._ ”

“ _My mother grew up speaking it. She passed the language onto me. But she was a wolf, as am I._ ” Legosi explained, his heart lifting at the flourish of the language leaving his tongue after so long.

The voice gave a deep, hearty chuckle that rumbled pleasantly against Legosi’s chest, like an affectionate pat.“ _You cannot deceive me, young one. There is dragon blood in you. It is quite an indisputable scent, once you know it._ ”

“ _Well...Komodo dragon, yes,”_ Legosi admitted, _“At least partially._ ”

The voice scoffed, “ _Komodos are naught but dragons whose ancestors forewent their wings and fire for more worldly wants.”_

Legosi walked closer to the wall, peering into the hole that separated the stone. If he looked close enough, he could make out the gleam of an eye shining against the torchlight, staring at him.

“ _Are you a prisoner here too?”_

“ _Yes. One of_ _the Grand Master’s_ _‘champions’. This men caught me while I slept. They keep me here, chained in this dark room. They only let me glimpse the sun when they let me out into their_ _arena._ _For their tournaments. To feed.”_

Legosi grimaced, “ _How long_?”

The creature grumbled, contemplating _, “Years. Decades, perhaps. How many, I have lost count.”_

Legosi heard the sounds of heavy metal chains and something meaty drag against the stone floor in the other room.

“ _I am sorry.”_

The animal must have heard the honesty in his voice, for it rumbled, _“You are kind, dragonling. What do they call you?”_

Legosi tilted his head towards the defect in the wall, their only window of communication, _“I am Legosi. And you?”_

The voice scoffed, _“I have no name. If I once did, it has not been called for a long time.”_

The wolf tilted his head _, “How old are you, exactly?”_

“ _Too old,”_ Legosi could practically hear the stranger smirking, and chuckled softly.

“ _Tell me your story, dragonling. How have you ended up in this place?”_ Legosi heard the animal settle into place beyond the wall.

“ _It’s a bit of a...complicated one,”_ Legosi warned, not sure why he felt so compelled to tell it. Perhaps it was the magic in the air, the comfort of it.

Besides, what else was he to do alone in this dungeon?

“ _I assure you, I have time,”_ came a rumbling chuckle.

* * *

That night, when the moon was at its zenith, Louis turned the knob of the bedroom door and cracked it open just enough to look through.

The darkened hallway sat quiet and unassuming, with only the occasional torch perched along its path.

Slowly, he opened the door wider. His ears swiveled under his antlers, searching. After a moment of silence, he breathed a sigh.

Yes, thank the Seven Gods. Marius hadn’t put any guards at his room for the night.

Louis slipped out into the hall, his bare feet muffled against the plush carpet that lined the stone floor. Cautious but determined, he slunk through the Slave Master’s palace.

He squinted his eyes, straining to see in the low light. If he could just find out more about Marius, find out more about the city, perhaps he could find the Shishigumi and Legosi. And, better yet, find a way they could sneak out unnoticed. Marius seemed dangerously confident in his hold on the city. Louis hoped that meant the ape’s hubris would give them an easy means for escape rather than a heavily mounted army.

His house seemed evidence enough, as Louis crept through the darkness. Each corner he turned, each room he peered into, there was a distinct lack of guards. Perhaps the ape _was_ overconfident? After all, what herbivore would even want to escape this wealthy, carnivore-less paradise?

His search yielded many discoveries: libraries, drawing rooms, a courtyard filled with exotic flowers and fruit trees, thermal baths large enough to fit _at least_ thirty persons. None of these were out of the ordinary. Except for the fact that they were all empty. Louis would've thought a man of Marius’s stature would have a multitude of guests.

He wasn’t sure how long he looked, but before he knew it the horizon had begun to pinken. He sighed at the sight, frustrated that his night had been full of wasted efforts. He turned on his heel, heading in the direction he came from. Hopefully he could find his way back through the labyrinthine manor to his room.

Then, distantly but not distant enough, the echo of footsteps reached his ears.

Louis stiffened. Yes, definitely time to go.

Making sure to stay light on his feet, he hurried in the opposite direction, only to reach a dead end.

_Shit_.

The footsteps were getting closer, and now Louis could hear the distinct clank of armor that accompanied it.

Silently cursing again, he noticed a door to his right and practically leapt for it. The door was metal, and heavy, different than all the others he had found so far. He thanked the gods it didn’t creak as it opened. The room on the other side was dark and had a stale chill to it, but Louis didn’t dwell as he shut himself in as quietly as he could. He squatted near the entrance, the door squeezing the hallway lights out of existence.

Louis waited, not daring to breathe as the clank of the guard’s armor came closer, closer, closer, paused...and then passed. Louis kept his ear against the door, listening, until the sound was well out of his earshot. The deer let out a breath, shoulders falling.

_That was too close, I definitely should head back_.

As he stood to grab the handle, his foot slipped against he stone floor, down a dip that startled him. He gasped and reached out to the wall, grabbing a handrail. Steadying himself, Louis realized the room he had entered was a stairway.

Strange, since he was on the ground floor of Marius’s mansion.

Louis narrowed his eyes, but the darkness yielded nothing to the cervid. Louis folded his arms, wishing he had a torch. Though, going back and taking one off of the walls would look suspicious if the guard decided to wander back.

_Y_ _ou have fire magic, don’t you? Just use that._

Louis’s lips pressed into a firm line. His fingers flexed at his sides.

His magic had been sitting at a constant hum since his arrival in Meereen, reacting to his anxiety and suspicion. It sat just under his skin, pulsing, like it was patiently waiting for Louis to call upon it.

He needed to see. He could…maybe pretend he was lighting a fire again? Like he did when they were escaping through the Kingswood. Sure, he’d almost set the forest on fire last time, but it had been his first try. ~~Not like anyone had been around to see him frantically stomp out the wayward flames.~~ Simple. He could do that without his magic exploding in his face this time, right?

He felt a ripple of heat escape his skin as he contemplated.

“Okay, okay,” Louis muttered to it, relenting.

Last time he used it, Louis had thought “ _camp_ _fire_ ”, but that resulted in a burst of flame that had been _way_ too strong. He needed it to be gentler, quieter.

He rubbed his hands together gently before bringing them up. He cupped his hands, his magic sparking as if excited to be used.

Louis took a steadying breath and whispered, “Light.”

Immediately fire sprung to life along his forearms.

“Shh, no,” Louis hissed at it. His heart pounded, and his flames seemed to rise with that. Louis took a deep breath and let it out, calming himself. He tried to focus on his hands, he thought of a candle flame, “Smaller, smaller.”

Miraculously, the flames lowered and migrated until just one hand was covered in the bright orange flames.

He turned his hand around and looked at the small blaze. Louis gave a short, quiet laugh.

Satisfied, and a little proud of himself, Louis held his hand out and frowned.

Before him was a narrow, unlit stairway. The air was stagnant and dusty. Looking around, Louis just saw dull, coarsely shorn rock and old, rickety handrails that bracketed the stairs. The area lacked the ever-present garish décor of the mansion itself. No carpets, no statues, no lights. Just sand and stone.

Louis narrowed his eyes. If Marius was hiding something, it would be here.

The deer steeled himself and, as quietly as he could, made his way down. The stairway was steep, but short, and led down to a long, equally dark hallway. As Louis walked, he heard noises above him: muttered voices and cart wheels. The tunnel must have been dug out underneath the city. It ended in another small, curving set of stairs, and as Louis descended, louder voices reached his ears. Freezing and bracing himself against the wall of the stairway, Louis clenched his fist around his flame, plunging himself back into darkness.

“ _Skoros iā nādrēsy_ ,” a deep voice drifted up from below.

“ _Ah, īles_ ,” a gentler voice answered, and softly chuckled.

Louis’s ears perked up. Wait, that second one sounded familiar.

He crept forward, listening to the voices more intently.

“ _Issa va moriot hae bona isse Vesteros..._ ”

It was the second voice again, accented in a way he had not heard before, but below the foreign words was a recognizable baritone.

Louis gasped and hurried down the rest of the stairs.

At the bottom was a door, locked and dead-bolted with torchlight shining through its barred window.

Hands grasping at the bars, he stood on the tips of his toes to look through, “Legosi!”

The wolf (was he talking to a wall?) was sitting on the ground. He whipped his head to the deer’s direction and leapt for the door.

“ _Louis!_ _A_ _o sagon_ —em,” the wolf shook his head and tried again, “You’re here!”

“Are you alright? I didn’t see you on the ship and the others –“

“We’re okay,” the canine reassured, “Everyone’s alright.”

Louis let out a relieved breath.

“What about you? Did Ellion hurt you?” the wolf stuck his nose through the bars to sniff, and his eyes raked over Louis’s form, flickering between concern and excitement.

A strange feeling popped up in Louis’s chest, like something vital in him had stuttered. He shoved a palm up to Legosi’s nose to force the wofl’s’ snout back through.

“Put your nose away!” he said sharply, “I’m fine.”

He hadn’t realized, too exited to find a familiar face, but his eyes widened when his hand found iron instead of soft fur. He wrenched his hand back.

“They muzzled you?” he said, his voice suddenly hard.

Legosi raised his hands, showing off shackled wrists, “Gave us these too. Very welcoming, don’t you think?”

Louis felt his magic spark across his fingertips. His palm _burned_ where he had touched the basket muzzle.

“ _Qilōni iksis bona, zaldrīzes riña_?”

Louis flinched, but Legosi just turned to the wall of his cell.

“ _Iā raqiros_ ,” Legosi answered, and Louis couldn’t help but watch the canine’s tongue as he formed the words.

“Who’s that?”

“A…friend. I think,” Legosi gave a wan smile, “Wait, where did you come from? How did you get here?”

Louis regaled him of his journey, the city and how it worked, meeting Marius. As he spoke, he noticed the way Legosi’s eyes never left his form. The wolf was staring at him intently, stereotypically, like a predator watching his prey.

No...that wasn’t right. More like how an audience member watched a performer. Focused. Entranced.

No. It was probably Louis’s imagination.

“I don’t like him,” the wolf said once Louis was finished, ever honest.

“Me neither, but if I try to get out of his reach, he may force me to leave the city altogether.”

“But, Louis -”

Legosi was cut off by the echoing clang of a door being slammed open.

“ _H_ _avor jēda_!” a voice shouted.

They froze, listening to the clangs of doors closing, more yelling, and the thuds of something being thrown on the ground.

“What’s happening?” he whispered.

“I think it’s guards bringing food,” Legosi muttered back, the fur on the back of his neck rising, “You need to leave. Go, we’ll be alright for now.”

Louis nodded, the gruff voices of the guards drifting towards them. He shuffled back to the stairway, but stopped and looked back.

“I’ll come back tonight, okay? Just...tell the others to stay put. I’ll think of something.”

“Okay, okay, now go,” Legosi urged him.

Louis allowed himself to hold the wolf’s gaze for a moment longer before taking the stairs two at a time.

Back in the manor, settling himself in bed mere minutes before Marius had a servant gather him for breakfast, Louis’s mind had already started putting pieces of a plan together. He just needed information.

-

It became something of a routine then.

During the days that followed, Louis busied himself with the resources available to him. He found books and maps of the city nestled in Marius’s library, questioned the servants, even discretely asked the locals during his and Marius’s morning walks.

“Most people don’t leave once they get here,” Marius had said one morning after Louis made small talk with a dove selling oranges.

The chimpanzee was smiling, waving to vendors with familiarity as they passed. “Most of them have never had the security they do in Meereen. It’s like drinking fine wine for the first time. Once you taste it, it sticks with you, and nothing else can quench that craving.”

The one thing Marius made certain was that no carnivores came in nor left Mereen without an immeasurable number of guards, chains, and weapons.

One lucky break was when Louis found a map of the city hidden in the corner of one of the manor’s bookshelves. There were a few tunnels like the one in the mansion that led from the shipping docks to numerous buildings and what looked like an outdoor amphitheater, but none of them led to the outskirts of the city.

“For subtle shifting merchandise, as to not upset the locals,” Marius explained when Louis asked.

Marius was particular and efficient with his trade. He’d made an art out of trafficking animals. He even had a well-kept inventory log that Louis happened upon in one of the sitting rooms. There were buyer’s names, locations, and a multitude of animals meticulously recorded. There were many fates to the captured animal, none of them pleasant.

_15 year_ _s_ _old male Red Tailed Hawk– sold for 700 to Sir Nako Nastar_ _– To the pits._

_40 year old castrated male_ _Reticulated Python_ _– sold for 300 to Lady Orira – skinned and tanned._

_21 years old female_ _Leopard_ _– sold for 100 to the east brothel – Condition: used_.

Louis couldn’t stomach food for the rest of the day at the number of carnivore children he found that shared the same fate as the last one.

Later, in the middle of the night, with the fruits of his labor fluttering in his head, Louis would sneak down to the dungeons under Meereen. He’d meet Legosi, usually in the middle of a conversation with his wall-friend, and they’d scheme.

Louis would share his findings, and Legosi would do his best to fill in holes in his knowledge. He’d offer old knowledge that all Essosians knew, things he heard from Ibuki, even information from the prisoner through the wall (who Louis begrudgingly trusted under Legosi’s reassurances).

Legosi didn’t seem surprised when Louis mentioned the ledger, and subsequently the fates of the animals sold. Legosi told him about the fighting pits, specifically the horror stories he was told as a child. How most animals would rather die than be forced into it.

Louis learned what the true purpose for the amphitheater on the map was that evening. He tried even harder to find answers after that particular realization.

However, despite his efforts, most of their plans hit snags or just outright wouldn’t work.

“This Marius guy sure keeps his hand tight around the city,” Legosi sighed one evening.

“It’s his pride and joy. Trust me, I’ve heard him talk about it enough to know,” Louis scrubbed the heel of his hand against the base of his antlers. Damn they were getting more and more sore by the day. It was giving him a headache. Or perhaps that was his exhaustion. Sleep had eluded him recently…or, more like he was eluded sleep seeing as he spent his days entertaining Marius and his nights brainstorming for a way out of Meereen.

Legosi sighed, but his despondence was interrupted by the rumbling growl of his stomach.

“Didn’t they just feed you guys this evening?” Louis wondered, his own gut being too full from the dinner feast Marius had thrown earlier.

“They haven’t brought us anything in a few days. Not sure why.”

Louis frowned, “I’ll try to smuggle something down for all of you tomorrow night.”

Legosi wagged his tail and licked his lips at the thought before moving on to some gossip he overheard from a couple of guards earlier. Louis did his best to listen, he really did, but...

Louis found himself more and more engrossed with the wolf during his visits. He’d zone out while Legosi went over some spark of a plan he or the lions thought up, or when he’d ask a question in Valyrian to the wall-friend. Instead of listening he’d find himself focusing on Legosi’s lips as he spoke, how they repeatedly revealed and concealed his fangs. He’d trace the expressiveness of his eyebrows, the lines of his jaw, down to the fur sticking out of his shirt collar. It was frustrating how easily he was distracted.

He was befuddled as to why he was so fascinated. Sure, he hadn’t had a chance to examine a wolf before, but he’d never felt the same need with any other species.

Not only that, but whenever Legosi met his gaze, the deer had a sudden urge to hide. But it wasn’t out of fear. His heart would start beating heavily, yes, but there was also a warmth, almost as if…was it _bashfulness_? For what reason would Louis of House Elaphus need to be _bashful_?

He thought about that feeling often, turning it over in his head, trying to figure it out. He’d think about it while reading, in the few hours he laid in his bed, even now, as his fingers traced the carvings of the dark hardwood dining table.

_Bashful_ , Louis scoffed at himself in his head and grimaced.

Marius, sitting across from him, eyed the deer, “Why so glum, Adler? Don’t tell me your stay hasn’t been comfortable.”

Louis blinked and straightened in his chair as an otter, shackled with downcast eyes, placed a platter of fruit in front of him.

“Of course it has. You’ve been a very gracious host, Marius.”

The ape sighed and propped his chin on his hand, “I can’t believe you’ll be leaving in a few days. You make such good company, my boy. It’s hard to find stimulating conversation with other animals nowadays. You’re a breath of fresh air compared to the other drivel I have to deal with.”

“I am not deserving of such compliments, sir,” Louis grabbed at his wine glass, hoping he could drown out the ape for one evening. It exhausted Louis how much the man liked to hear his own voice. He could speak to Louis for _hours_ about the city, his business. Really, Louis thought he’d get a break from these kinds of conversations in Essos.

“My boy, I do not give out compliments easily, you know! Oh, how I wish you would stay. This place could use someone like you. I’d even make it worth your while.”

“Oh? And how would you do that?” he moved some blueberries around his plate with is fork. Didn’t Legosi mention something about liking these? Maybe he could sneak some down tonight. The strawberries too…

“Well...I can let you have your choice of merchandise. For free.”

Louis tilted his head, pretending to be interested, “My own carnivore?”

“Yes! Whichever one you want for whatever reason! Don’t be frightened though, they are completely harmless. We have maesters put potions in their food and drink that make them quiet and pliable, don’t we Nesira, dear?” he placed a large hand on the otter’s shoulders, dwarfing her. Louis nervously thought that Marius could easily crush her if he wanted.

“Yes sir,” the otter’s voice was quiet, distant, like she wasn’t fully registering what was happening.

Louis pretended the sight didn’t unnerve him.

“And they just...take it willingly?” Louis asked.

“Well, sometimes we need to persuade them, especially the newly harvested ones. But a few rounds with some of my men, and they always end up complying.”

‘Newly harvested’, ‘a few rounds with my men’, this animal talked about carnivores like they were crops, like they were property.

Marius talked about them the same way the Black Market carnivores had talked about Louis.

He took a long sip of his wine, gazing out the window at the mountains that loomed beyond Meereen.

Louis couldn’t deny that, at one point, he would have done anything to be one of its citizens.

After all, a city where herbivores didn’t live in constant fear of carnivores? What else could that be but paradise?

A part of Louis, an old, feeble part, thought the idea lovely. Imagine, a place where herbivores didn’t have to fear for their own lives every time they left their homes. It was a rampant dream in Westeros, one whispered about and wistfully longed for by all animals that were born under the “prey” line. It was a fantasy those in the west knew would never come to fruition and, yet, here it was. Not only was it a safe haven, but provided _retribution_ against carnivores. In a way, it was magnificent.

Louis had to stop and forcibly press down that intrusive thought. Though he wondered at the marvel of it all, another part of him, one Louis had felt grow recently, was disgusted.

This wasn’t the utopia herbivores thought it to be. Well, maybe it would be if they deliberately decided to hide behind their mother’s skirt of indifference, if they willfully ignored the city’s underbelly.

The Black Market was never destroyed, it was just under different management.

“You can use them however you’d like, you know,” Marius grinned at him.

Louis imagined stabbing his fork into the ape’s hand. Oh, he _knew_ how the carnivores in this city were ‘used’.

“They can serve you. You’d never have to lift a finger again. Imagine…a tiger bringing you your food, a bear to beat when you need to let off steam.”

Gods, the conversation was really ruining his appetite. He hoped Marius would let it drop soon. He was running out of wine.

“A wolf to warm your bed?”

Louis froze.

Marius leaned forward, “If you’re in to that, that is. Although from how you spend your nights, I think you are.”

Louis slowly looked up and met the ape’s eyes. His hand was gripping his glass so tight, Louis wondered how it didn’t crack under the force.

Marius’s grin was wide, showing teeth and gum. There was no humor in it, “You don’t think I don’t know what goes on in my own house?

“I…” Louis started.

“If you wanted him, you could have just asked, Adler. Like I said, we have ways to make them pliant. He wouldn’t even be able to put up a fuss.”

Louis watched Marius trail his hand up the otter servant’s back, and the subsequent lack of response from the mustelid.

Louis narrowed his eyes, “No.”

Marius’s grin disappeared, “No?

“We may have been…” Louis eyes bore into the chimpanzee’s with a ferocity, “Even the Market didn’t sink to that level with us.”

The chimp scrutinized Louis, “You think they wouldn’t have?”

“I...,” Louis swallowed thickly, “I won’t be that person. I won’t _force_ anyone. For servitude, for fighting, for _anything_. That would make me no better than the Market.”

Marius stared at Louis with an intensity, like he was unraveling Louis’s entire form with a single glance. He skinned the deer with is eyes, through sinew and muscle, right down to Louis’s being.

“What graciousness you have, Adler,” he picked up his own drink and threw back the expensive Essosian wine. His voice was as cold as the dungeons below his city. “Most would leap at the chance for such retribution. It’s only what they deserve.”

Marius smiled at Louis, but his eyes were hard.

“I admire you, Adler. Why don’t you spend your day with me tomorrow? I will show you a spectacle. Just for you, in fact.”

Louis couldn’t say no. The look in Marius’s eyes told him he wouldn’t like what would happen if he refused.

Later, his insides hard with dread, Louis did his usual routine of sneaking out of his room for the dungeons. Only this time, as he rounded the last corner, he was met with a guard.

“Are you lost, Lord Adler?” the rhino asked, hand on his sword.

Louis blinked despondently at the metal door past him.

“Yes, I seemed to have gotten turned around while finding the library,” he muttered, resigned.

“Allow me to escort you there, sir.”

Louis let himself be led away, feeling his stomach sink.

* * *

Something was off tonight. Louis was late, very late. The sun would be rising soon.

Legosi let out a long breath as he resumed his pacing.

“ _You sigh much this evening, dragonling._ ”

Legosi eyes didn’t leave the door, “ _Is that so_?”

“ _That was number ninety-seven_ _. If I am counting correctly._ ”

Legosi huffed to himself. He stopped walking to thunk his head back against the wall. He was being silly. Waiting for Louis to appear like a young boy peeking from behind a tree at a young maiden.

“ _Just worried is all,_ ” he admitted.

“ _I feel it is more of a longing than a worry._ ”

Legosi shot up like there was fire under his feet, “ _W-what? No, no way!_ _That’s...it’d never-_ ”

He could basically hear the smile from behind the wall. Legosi scowled, realizing the animal was teasing. Legosi was reminded him of his grandfather.

Legosi sighed again and folded his arms, dispirited, “ _Well...maybe. But what I’m feeling doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. At the end of the day, he’s the King of Westeros and it’s my job to keep him safe. For now, that’s all there is to it._ ”

The animal hummed. When he spoke, it seemed like his mind was far away, _“_ _You know,_ _I met an animal such as you once. He was_ _enrapture_ _d_ _with_ _someone of another_ _species, as you are._ _If I remember correctly, he_ _too reeked of dragon and dire wolf.”_

“ _I am not enraptured,”_ Legosi protested, though he could hear how his declaration of denial fell short even to his own ears. He made to scratch at the back of his neck, and growled at the restraints on his hands. The muzzle rubbed uncomfortably against his skin, cinched too loose. He was uncomfortable and worried. It was putting him in a mood.

The stranger continued as if uninterrupted, _“_ _Strange, how I have now been acquainted with two animals of such_ _bizarre_ _origins. It’s a distinct smell, their two magics embodying the same being.”_

Legosi furrowed his brows _, “But_ _I have no magic.”_

“ _All dragons and dire wolves had magic inside of them, whether they could use it or not was the question. Mages sought their power, in the past. Their mere presence enhanced the magic around them, made mages stronger. Some, I believe were afraid of that, and set off to kill both the wolves and dragons out of fear.”_

“ _I...have never heard of that,”_

“ _It was an ancient thing. One most animals have forgotten.”_

Before Legosi could contemplate it, there was the jingle of keys and a _thunk_ as the door in front of them was unbolted.

An armored gaur entered, one Legosi recognized as the head guard of the prison cells. He stood in the doorway, flanked by two more guards that aimed arrows at Legosi’s head. Fearlessly, the gaur entered and cinched a rope around Legosi’s neck.

“ _Boss wants you, mutt. Come along nicely or I’ll have my men give you as many lashes as it takes until you do. Your choice.”_

The apprehension he felt had his instincts itching to bare his teeth, to the point where his upper lip twitched, but his neck was roughly yanked to the side.

“ _Don’t try that with me, wolf. You won’t like what I’ll do,”_ the herbivore warned.

Begrudgingly, Legosi stilled himself, ears pinned to his head. He let the guar lead him out of the cell, the two other guards following close behind.

“ _I have a lot of money riding on you today._ _So, you better win._ _”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the long wait, the last few months of 2020 kicked my ass. 
> 
> I'm not completely happy with this chapter, so I'm sorry if it's a bit jumbled. Hopefully the next few make up for it! Thank you for reading!


	10. Dragon Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I bestow upon you 21 pages of basically just action. Enjoy!
> 
> Recommended listening for this chapter: [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VE7czS0FdXM)  
> and [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=68keQv2nQNM)  
> 

There was a strange, ceremonious feel about the herbivores as Legosi was led through the dungeons. It was like being at a wake with an undercurrent of anticipation.

Although wary, the guards kept a respectful distance from him as they led him through the cells and to a dark, windowless room. 

“Any sudden moves, and we’ll put an arrow in your skull,” the gaur warned him as the muzzle, chains, and wrist cuffs were removed.

Unrestrained, the gaur shoved Legosi into the room. The herbivore threw a curt “good luck” over his shoulder before the door was slammed shut, leaving Legosi in darkness.

His nocturnal vision didn’t do much for him, as the room was completely barren. There was a large set of metal double doors immediately opposite from the one he entered through. The thick stone walls stared dully back at him. The air was stale with the smell of sweat and fear.

Legosi sighed and sank down to the floor.

He wasn't surprised to have been chosen for the pits. But he would be lying if he said he wasn’t terrified.

He had an inkling when they were refused food. The carnivores in the cells had become agitated and worried from the lack of it. The Shishigumi were snapping at each other through the growling of their stomachs, and Legosi wasn’t too far behind. 

It seemed to be a tactical ploy by the herbivore guards. After all, the hungrier an animal was, the less restraint they'd have to fight. Especially if they enticed the winners with a large meal.

Legosi swallowed heavily, his stomach grumbling uncomfortably from hunger and unease 

He didn’t see the appeal. Despite his life revolving around it in Westeros, Legosi hated fighting, hated violence. He raised his sword as a last resort, to protect people, when the only language the enemy elected to speak was the ringing of steel on steel. Legosi hated being cornered into speaking with his sword, and he _despised_ killing.

_Even if the blood smelled good._

_Even if the feel of his blade piercing flesh was oh, so satisfying._

Legosi grit his teeth and forced the thoughts away. They were a result of his nerves. Only monsters thought like that. And Legosi was determined not to be one.

He moved so his back was against the wall, and stared at the double doors that would eventually open and prompt him into the arena. 

He waited hours it felt like, but with there being no windows he wasn’t sure. He just knew that once he was let out, he’d have to make some complicated decisions. The animals of Meereen expected him to fight. Legosi didn’t want to. The battles were always to the death, and he didn’t want to kill anyone. 

On the other hand though, did he want to die in this place? Did he want to leave the others unprotected? The only way to avoid that was to fight.

Would Louis be there? Would he have to kill an innocent carnivore in front of him?

He felt the blood drain from his face at the thought.

He waited and contemplated, and prayed he’d know what to do by the time the doors opened.

* * *

Louis was forcefully dragged out of bed that morning. The servants who usually drew him baths or brought him to the dining room for breakfast were replaced by heavily armored guards. They woke him by grabbing his ankle and yanking him to the floor. Louis changed under their watchful glares and dragged him by the arms to the entrance of Marius’s mansion when he was presentable.

In front, standing aside a rickshaw, Marius stood. He opened his arms, as if to present a grand spectacle.

“So nice of you to join us, Adler.”

Louis jerked his arms out of the guard’s grasps.

“What do you want?” he spat out.

“What do _I_ want? I want nothing. This is my gift to _you_ , Adler, I am just showing you my generosity for the past week,” the ape set a hand on Louis’s shoulder and squeezed too tight for comfort. “After all, you deserve it.”

Louis glared and shrugged the hand off his shoulder. He wished he could bite the smirk of the ape’s face.

Marius gestured to the rickshaw, “Shall we?”

The guards flanking him moved closer, hands on the hilts of their swords. Louis balled his hands into fists, his nails digging into his palms.

_Not like I have a choice._

He climbed into his seat, Marius following right after him, and then they set off through the city of Meereen.

As they rode along the cobblestone streets, Louis saw that many other herbivores were traveling in the same direction, coming from all directions of the city. They waved at Marius, spoke joyously in their foreign language. Marius responded in kind, but his smile was tight. 

It wasn’t long before the amphitheater came into view. The dome-shaped lattice-work of metal loomed high over the city, breaking apart the morning’s clear, cerulean sky.

Their entourage stopped in front of a tall tower built into the stands. Louis saw civilians convalescing around the arena, but the only ones that followed Marius into the tower were Louis and an impala guard.

They ascended a winding set of stairs to a room at the top. The area was lined with tables of refreshments and plush chairs looking out through a glassless window spanning the width of the entire tower.

Even from a distance, it offered an exceptional, unobstructed view of the fighting arena below.

Animals were filling into the stands below, meeting with acquaintances and talking animatedly. None seemed to have any qualms about what they were there to witness. Louis supposed it made sense. After all, they came here for a good show.

Louis walked to it, placing his hands on the sill and peered out. There were numerous sets of entryways into the fighting pit, guards stationed at each. Right across from the tower, an enormous set of chained golden doors gleamed, putting all others to shame.

“I had the best seat saved for the guest of honor,” Marius said as he came to stand beside him. Louis ground his teeth, sick of the other animal's presence

Louis threw a punch at the ape’s smug face. 

Marius caught it easily, wringing the deer’s wrist. The impala guard threw up a bow and arrow, aiming for Louis, but was waved him off.

Louis hissed as the Marius forced him into one of the padded chairs before mercifully releasing him.

His breath was hot on Louis’s face as he leaned in, “Now, I’m going to let you off the hook for that one. I’m used to animals wanting to take a swing at me. But my patience for your antics is wearing painfully thin.”

Louis cradled his hand close to his chest, rubbing at the throbbing around his wrist.

“Sit and enjoy the show,” the ‘or else’ was left unsaid.

Louis sat in silence, avoiding the ape’s gaze until the cheering of the crowd drew his attention to the arena.

Out of a set of heavy doors, a familiar form was pushed out into the harsh, arid sun.

“This is your wolf?” Marius pondered, stroking his chin as he observed Legosi, “Wasn’t he taken off of Ellion’s ship the same day you were?”

Louis did not deign to answer him.

“He’s larger than wolves usually are,” Marius said offhandedly as he leaned forward.

Louis ignored him, keeping his eyes on Legosi’s face.

Legosi’s eyes roamed the arena, taking in the cheering herbivores in the stands, the lack of cover.

He’d be okay. Louis had seen the wolf’s fighting ability, his power. He would win.

He _had_ to.

* * *

The crowds were standing up, cheering fervently when Legosi entered the pit. Most held drinks and food. Through the cacophony of shouts, his sharp eyes could make out coins discreetly being passed between hands. 

Armed guards lined the border of the pit. They had arrows notched on bows, but were negligently pointed towards the ground. Some whispered excitedly to one another as they eyed Legosi. 

“Legosi. Hey, Legosi!”

He turned and saw the varied faces of the Shishigumi peering up at him from the cell’s port-hole windows.

“What’s happening?” Ibuki asked, taking in the audience.

“They’re going to make me fight another carnivore,” he explained solemnly.

“Well, that’s not bad, right?” Agata asked innocently, peering up at him with barely contained concern. “I mean, you’re a good fighter. You’ll be able to win, yeah?”

Legosi pressed his lips together and averted his gaze.

Something tugged at him, and he recognized it as the familiar flicker of Louis’s fire magic. He turned his head to follow the sensation. There the deer sat, next to a imposing chimpanzee Legosi assumed was the Grand Master that caused all of this. They sat up in a high tower, the royal box, meant for important lords and ladies to fully see all the details of the fight.

The magic tugged at him again, and Legosi met Louis’s eyes. 

_Live_ , they said.

He would certainly try.

There was the sharp squeal of metal hinges, and Legosi’s attention was pulled across the circular pit. From a separate entrance stepped out a female cheetah. She was older, perhaps in her forties. Her eyes met Legosi, and she looked at him in obvious pity. The crowd applauded at her entry. Some animals made provocative comments and whistled in her direction.

He lowered his ears as she sized him up. Legosi could see old scars all over her, with a particularly nasty one arching from her right brown to her left cheek, across the nose. 

She calmly walked over to one of the pit’s weapon racks and picked up a broadsword. She spun the hilt in her hands in a way that showed familiarity with the blade. 

Advancing closer to Legosi, her voice kind but hollow as she said, “Choose a weapon, my friend,” 

Legosi looked at the weapon rack closest to him, the sun’s light reflecting off the unpolished blades. He turned back to the feline.

“I don’t want to fight you,” he muttered, feeling his tail tuck.

The gaze she gave him was motherly and gentle. They contrasted with her response, “I’m afraid you don’t have a choice in the matter.”

She nodded at the guards, who were staring at their interaction intently. 

“If you don’t fight, they will kill you. The audience always gets their blood. One way or another.”

Legosi saw their grip on their lax bow strings tighten as they delayed their battle.

Reluctantly, Legosi trudged over and grabbed a weapon, not bothering to see what kind it was.

He turned back to the feline, “I’m sorry for this.”

She raised her sword, “Me too.”

There was a hush in the crowd as they circled each other, the patrons eagerly awaiting the first strike. Legosi watched, waiting for the telltale shift of the feline’s muscles. When his opponent lunged, he was ready.

She was incredibly fast and agile. Wherever Legosi moved, the cheetah would follow half a step behind him. 

Legosi grit his teeth as he knocked the other carnivore’s attacks away again and again. A few times he was too slow, earning himself a sharp kiss from the edge of her blade. His bicep, his ear, his hip. The wounds weren’t serious, but the sharp stings startled him, giving the cheetah a half second to get closer to him each and every time. The noise of the crowd crescendoed with each successful swipe.

She thrust her sword at his head. Legosi threw himself backwards to avoid having his eyes stabbed out. Foot slipping against the unstable sand, he was sent skidding onto the ground. A flash of silver, and he rolled sideways, avoiding another swing of her sword.

“You’re good,” she ground out as he got back to his feet.

She cut off the chance of a retort with a diagonal swing aimed at his shoulder. Legosi blocked it with his own blade, throwing her off course, and kept moving.

Cheetahs were fast, but they were sprinters, their stamina some of the lowest of all carnivores. As long as Legosi kept moving, she would lose her advantage on him.

As he danced around her, he refused to go on the offense. Though his instincts pointed out every opening she provided him with, he couldn't make himself take them.

Maybe he’s wrong. Maybe the herbivores of Meereen just want to watch a good fight. She seemed to be a crowd favorite. Maybe if he disarmed her, they’d both live.

The next attack she sent his way, Legosi threw all his strength into the block. The cheetah's arm was thrown up by the force of his counteracting swing, and she gasped at the unexpected move.

Legosi grabbed her wrist and wretched it, not enough to break but enough that the hilt of the feline’s broadsword slipped out of her grasp.

His heel shot out, catching the side of her knee. The other carnivore cried out and caught herself with a hand before she fell completely.

She snarled and swiped her claws at him now that her other weapon was lost. Legosi stopped her before she could get to her feet, hooking his ankle around one of hers, and pushing her flat on her back, pinning her to the ground.

He pointed the end of his blade at her throat.

The audience’s cheers vibrated through the air. They jumped from their seats in anticipation, shouting down at them

“ _Finish it_!”

“ _Give us her head_!”

“ _Come on_!”

A multitude of voices shouted at him from the stands, demanding blood. Legosi held his sword steady, couldn’t bring himself to move it. The cheetah’s chest heaved in exertion, but she stared up at Legosi as one would a savoir.

“Do it.”

Legosi felt his hand tremble, and he subsequently tightened his grip on the sword. He shook his head, “No, _no_ I won't.”

“If you don’t then _they_ will,” she growled out. “And I’m not going to let those bastards take more from me than they already have. If I’m going to die either way, then _I_ am going to choose how.”

Legosi pressed his mouth into a thin line. The jeering of the crowd prickled against him as he struggled with himself. His breath quickened. He could feel a familiar, dark, ancient instinct emerging from the depths of his mind chanting along with the mob claiming the stands. _Kill, kill, kill_ it crooned while his conscience screamed for the opposite. No, he couldn’t, he promised himself he wouldn’t. Not an innocent animal. Not after- 

A strong hand gripped his forearm, and the sudden contact pulled Legosi from his mind as the cheetah forced his attention on her. 

She met his eyes, her gaze fierce and determined. Not an ounce of fear flickered in her pupils. Her calm voice steadied him as she said, “I’ve been waiting for someone to defeat me for a long time. So... _please_.”

Legosi took in the hard lines of her face, the scars marring the pattern on her fur, the dimness in her gaze. If he survived, was that what he would look like? 

He swallowed, “I...I’ll make it quick.”

She nodded, and before Legosi could let himself linger on what he was going to do, he shoved the blade through her heart.

The crowd erupted in noise, cheering and stomping in approval.

Legosi trembled, the metallic stink of blood breaking through the air between them and searing into his nostrils. The red fluid dripped onto the sand, creating small craters between the grains. His stomach cramped. Was it nausea or hunger? He couldn’t tell.

The cheetah’s grip on his arm tightened, her sharp claws scraping against his skin. He pulled the blade out, watching her life essence flood onto the sand, but under the roaring of the audience Legosi could make out her relieved, “Thank you. _Thank you_.”

He took her hands in his. The audience kept cheering. The feline’s breathing stuttered out.

He wouldn’t accept her gratitude.

Not for this.

* * *

Louis’s knuckles were white where he gripped the armrests. 

Marius was languidly clapping at his side, “Your boy fights well. Pretty drab ending through.”

Sitting above the stands, Louis could make out the devastated expression on the wolf’s face as he stared at the cheetah’s corpse. 

The guards walked in, forcing Legosi away from the body with arrows aimed at his chest. 

The wolf reluctantly stepped back while they dragged the cheetah off the playing field, a strip of blood left soaked into the dry ground.

There was barely any respite before a frenzied jackal stumbled out before the people, he was younger than Legosi, much too young. 

The smaller canine’s eyes widened when they landed on the wolf. The jackal backpedaled, panicked at the sight of an apex predator.

Louis couldn’t hear anything, but he saw Legosi lift his hands placatingly at the jackal, his expression soft and reassuring. The wolf’s mouth moved, words unintelligible even to Louis’s sharp ears.

The jackal shook his head violently, yelling something across the arena that melded into the audience’s constant jeering. 

Marius groaned beside him, “Not one of these again. I _told_ Uro not to put the timid ones in.”

The ape snapped his fingers, “Give the pup some encouragement.”

The impala nodded, notched an arrow, and shot it into the arena. It embedded itself near the jackal’s feet.

The smaller canid screamed, looking up to the royal box they were seated in. 

“Make it a good one boys!” Marius shouted down. The impala aimed another arrow.

The jackal startled at the sight, and frantically grabbed a spear from the weapons rack.

With raised hackles and wild eyes, he charged at Legosi.

The jackal was inexperienced. He swung the weapon haphazardly any way he could at Legosi. Any other opponent would have disarmed and taken him down immediately. 

But Legosi, hands still held out peacefully, simply dodged all the attacks. He was speaking a lot, trying to calm the jackal down. The other animal wasn’t listening to any of it, the poor thing was too terrified.

Too soon, the jackal tired himself out. Panting and wide eyed, he stood in the middle of the arena, tears clearly streaming down his face. This time, when Legosi approached, the jackal let him.

Louis still couldn’t hear the words, but easily made out a phrase repeatedly forming from the jackal’s mouth:

“I don’t want to die! I don’t want to die!”

“You won’t,” Louis saw Legosi’s response, the sympathy in his eyes. “I promise.”

The audience saw what was happening and, displeased with the standstill, started voicing their disapproval. Booing and angry shouting. Some of them threw things into the arena.

The jackal flinched at the sudden negativity, but Legosi paid them no mind, bringing the other animal’s attention back to him. He crouched so he was the one looking up at the other canine, as opposed to the opposite. He continued talking gently to the jackal, reassuring him.

Slowly, the jackal was starting to nod, his sniffling dying down. Legosi gave the other canine a small smile.

Louis’s shoulders lowered, his grip on the chair loosening. A beam of pride for Legosi burst through the deer’s chest, like warm sunshine.

Next to him, Marius frowned, and made a motion with his hand.

Almost too fast for Louis to follow, the impala pulled his bowstring and let another arrow loose. 

The jackal let out a wet gurgle when it pierced through its neck

There was no cheering or surprise from the crowd, just an air of disappointment and boredom. 

Louis couldn’t tear his eyes away.

The jackal dropped his spear, hands going to his neck as he choked for air.

Legosi hurriedly closed the distance between them, grabbing at the jackal to do something. There was nothing he could do though. Leaving the arrow in his neck would kill him. Taking the arrow out would kill him faster. 

The jackal grabbed at the front of Legosi’s shirt. Legosi put his hand over it as he helplessly watched the jackal choke on his own blood.

_Legosi_. Louis’s chest hurt when the wolf leaned down and spoke softly to the jackal as it took its last few, stuttering breaths.

“Bring out the next one,” Marius’s voice sounded so far away, despite him sitting so close. 

“Why?” Louis whispered, “Why would you do that?”

“I don’t keep defective merchandise,” the ape said, like he was commenting on the weather.

Louis turned to insult the man’s lineage, his safety be damned, but a commotion from the crowd stopped him.

Legosi stood up, and Louis could see the exact second Legosi’s mind switched from horror to fury, an emotion Louis realized he’d never seen mar the wolf’s features until now. 

Louis always assumed Legosi’s rage would make him look like a monster, all bared teeth and roaring ferocity. But, as the wolf’s gaze zeroed in on where Marius and he were sitting, Louis saw the gleam of conviction and resolve flare in his green gaze. Louis saw a vindicator, a protector. Someone who keeps the monsters _at bay_.

The wolf leaned down and picked up the jackal’s spear, never averting his gaze. The wolf barely aimed before he lobbed the spear in their direction, too fast for anyone to react.

In a blink of his eyes, Louis felt the brush of air whisk past his face, and a loud _crack_.

Feeling his heart stop, his stomach drop, he turned his head to look at Marius. The ape’s jaw was dropped, the spear embedded in the back of his chair, mere inches from his head.

The whole arena was silent.

The ape closed his jaw, and past the expressionless façade Louis could see that Marius was _enraged_.

“Burn him,” Marius said. The impala nodded, and turned on his heel quickly.

“No, wait -” Louis made to get out of his chair but Marius slammed him back down with a hand on his shoulder.

“ _You_ ,” Marius seethed. “You will stay and _watch_. Unless you want to join him.”

Mairus stood up, placing his hands on the window edge as he stared icily down into the pit.

“How _dare_ he. Filthy bloodlicker,” Marius said under his breath. “I’d sell your fucking pelt, but you wouldn’t even be worthy to wipe my shit-soaked boots off on.”

Louis turned as the impala left, slamming the door shut, hoping to get a hint at what was going to happen.

He didn’t see any hints.

But he did see where the impala left his bow and arrows leaning against the wall.

Louis’s breath caught in his throat.

A loud flurry of movement and nervous chattering from the crowd brought Louis’s eyes back to the arena.

Legosi stood patiently in the pit’s center, eyes glaring into the ape’s.

He only looked away when the enormous, golden set of iron doors were pulled slowly open, three herbivores tugging on each side of it. The open archway was deep and dark. The air changed, like a cloud of miasma leaked out. His inner fire pulsed thickly under his skin.

A heavy rumble vibrated through the arena, shuttering so powerfully across the stands that Louis felt it crawl up his chair. 

An enormous creature stepped onto the pit.

Louis shot to his feet. His chair tilted and crashed to the floor from the ferocity of his movement

Marius smiled.

Louis took a few, shaky steps back, “That...That’s a -”

* * *

Dragon.

It was the only word that fluttered through Legosi’s mind before it shut off completely.

He scrambled backwards as the animal, as long as a ship, as tall as a tree, approached him. 

Deep red and black, the dragon crept towards him. Wings in place of front limbs pulled him forward, his back legs held talons that were as long as legosi was tall. Heavy chains dragged behind him, and Legosi followed them up to where a large shackle was clamped around the dragon’s neck, just below the skull. More chains trailed from his hind limbs and into the cell it emerged from. Though its frame was thinned, Legosi knew it would only take a single swipe from it to kill him. It’d be like swatting a fly. A large strip of iron around the animal’s snout allowed just enough movement for it to drag small prey into its mouth. Wolf-sized prey.

Legosi gasped and backpedaled desperately as the creature advanced on him. He tripped over his dropped sword, landing heavily on the ground. Propping himself up on his elbows, he lifted his head in time to see the dragon to loom over him, a multitude of horns sprouting out the back of its skull like an extra set of teeth.

Legosi stayed as still as he could, heart hammering. He squinted his eyes against the heated breath the animal’s nostrils blew his way. 

The dragon hissed. It lifted his lips into a reptilian smile, its ivory teeth the length of Legosi’s arm.

“ _Dragonling_.”

Legosi startled, his eyes widened with disbelief.

“Wha... _you_!”

Legosi suddenly felt a familiar magic surround him, the one that drifted through the cell wall at night when he basked in the company of his hidden friend. Legosi couldn't help but let out a nervous, bewildered laugh. 

The dragon’s smile widened.

“ _Am I that unintimidating? I am hurt, Dragonling._ ”

Legosi wiped a hand across one of his eyes, letting out a few wayward chuckles, “ _I just...I was not expecting...You are_ magnificent!”

The dragon snorted, though Legosi saw the animal preen under the words slightly, “ _Though I appreciate the flattery, you seem to be in need of my assistance. I enjoy your company, and so would surely hate to kill you._ ”

The large reptile turned his head to where Marius was sitting, and Legosi could only imagine the expression on the ape’s face as the dragon snorted in the tyrant’s direction. 

_“Any other animal would try to fight me, or would be too terrified to listen, but not you. This may be the only chance for both of us. If you help me, Legosi, I will graciously return the favor, and give you a means for escape_.”

“ _What do I need to do?_ ” Legosi immediately grasped at the chance.

The dragon tilted his neck, presenting his metal shackle to Legosi.

“ _Free me._ ”

Legosi probably should have spent a minute thinking it over, should probably have debated the pros and cons of helping an animal as dangerous and the one before him. But Legosi had never been one for planning. Not when his instincts knew exactly what to do.

The arena erupted into chaos as Legosi grabbed his sword and leapt onto the dragon’s back, crawling up his neck.

“Stop him!” he heard Marius’s shout echo across the pit as he shimmed up to the enormous metal cuff. He felt the dragon release a loud, threatening growl under him. Reaching the upper part of the dragon’s neck, he sought out the cuff’s hinge. Stuck in place with rust and disuse, Legosi shimmied his blade under the edge of the pin holding it in place, trying to lever it out.

An arrow whizzed past his ear, and he automatically ducked. He had to frantically grab at the spines along the dragon’s back as the animal jerked, lifting wings and swinging his tail to knock more arrows out of the air. 

“Come on,” he growled at the metal objects as he pushed at the sword again. The bolt was loosening, little by little.

He looked up, and saw the guards encircling him and the dragon. They were shooting arrows, but were effortlessly knocked out of the air before they could get close to him.

An incredibly brave, or stupid, bull drew his sword and rushed at the dragon. The reptilian’s tail whipped around. The impact sent the herbivore flying across the entire arena and into the stone wall.

The cheap blade snapped in half, and Legosi hissed as an edge sliced his palm. He threw the pieces away and grabbed the pin with his hands.

He pulled and pulled and pulled, the metal biting into his skin, the blood on his palm making it slippery. 

He felt it budge, loosening an inch at a time. He took a deep breath as he gathered all the strength he had. His muscles strained and he _pulled_.

_Shink_.

The pin slid out, and the anchor for Legosi’s pull fell away. He gasped as he slid off the dragon's neck. The air rushed out of his lungs as his back hit the ground. 

Groaning and rubbing his shoulder, he opened his eyes in time to see the shackle around the dragon’s neck loosen and then follow his path to the ground.

The dragon stilled.

The band of metal restricting its muzzle must have been attached to the cuff around its neck, for it also slid off and onto the terrain.

The dragon smiled.

“ _Finally_.”

Mouth opening wide enough to swallow an elephant whole, a tidal wave of fire erupted from the dragon's mouth, into the stands.

Legosi curled in on himself as a wave of searing heat rushed over him from the intensity of the flames. The smell of burning flesh permeated the air, animals were screaming.

The large gaur that escorted Legosi earlier charged at the dragon, a war cry emanating from his mouth.

The dragon turned and closed its jaws over the top half of the guar’s form. It shook its prey viciously before flinging the guard across the ground, where he landed and moved no more.

No other guards dared to venture towards the dragon after that.

The dragon reached around, grabbed the chains restraining its ankles and melted them with a flare of heat. 

Straightening, unfurling its wings, the dragon let out a roar so loud that Legosi slammed his hands over his ears. 

“ _I am Drogon.”_ the dragon’s declaration reverberated down to Legosi’s bones _. “Last living son of Daenerys Stormborn, of House Targaryen, the First of her Name, Queen of the Andals, Breaker of Chains, the Unburnt, Mother of Dragons.”_

He turned his head to Meereen’s Grand Master.

“ _And I will have your death, Marius._ ”

The dragon let out another deafening roar. With a great lunge that shook the ground, he took to the sky, grabbing onto the lattice of metal stretching above the arena. The dragon clamped his jaws around the bars and tore them away, piece by piece.

Legosi rushed to his feet, leaping out the way as pieces of metal rained down near him.

Turning, he gained the attention of the guards who were brave enough to stay in the arena. The dragon out of their reach, they set their eyes on him.

Legosi turned back, but found the other side of the arena covered in a curtain of dragonfire. Smoke stung his eyes as he begrudgingly faced the guards.

5...10...18, he counted.

Fuck, fuck he needed backup and he needed it now.

A tapir rushed him, blade drawn. Legosi leapt over him, landing behind his back. He kicked out, sweeping the herbivore’s feet out from under him. 

Three more ran his way, but were cut off by a large portion of falling rebar.

It gave him enough time to dash across the arena and skid to a stop at the lifeless body of the guar. He rummaged through the animal’s pockets until he pulled out a set of keys.

Feet slipping on the sand, he bolted in the direction he last saw the lions.

“Over here!” Agata’s voice called through the fire and chaos. Seeing a paw reach out into the arena, Legosi skidded to a stop on his knees and thrust the keys into the outstretched palm.

“Here, get everyone free,” his ears twitched and he threw himself to the side, an arrow lodging in the wall where his head had been.

“Legosi!” he heard Free shout at him, “Legsoi what the _fuck_ are you doing, you deranged son of a bitch!”

“I’m going to get Louis!” 

“Legosi wait!”

He ignored Ibuki’s call as he leapt back to his feet and ran back into the middle of the pit, the roars of both fire and dragon filling the air.

* * *

Marius let out an enraged shout, slamming his fists against the window-sill, watching the resulting chaos ensue. 

The ape was shouting at his guards, ordering, “Subdue the dragon _now_ ! I don’t care if you have to kill it, we _cannot_ let him escape!”

Blinded by his anger, by his ordering, he didn’t notice Louis silently slip across the floor. 

The deer quietly grabbed a hefty glass pitcher, still halfway filled with wine.

The feeling of slamming the pitcher into the back of Marius’s skull was astoundingly gratifying.

As the ape crumpled to the floor unconscious, Louis ran and grabbed the abandoned bow and arrows. 

Notching one before reaching the window, his eyes darted frantically around the arena. Squinting through the haze of smoke, past the thrashing tail and jaws of the gods damned _dragon_ tearing its way out of the pit, Louis spotted Legosi.

At the same moment, he spotted a kangaroo leap across the ground and send a powerful kick to Legosi’s abdomen.

The wolf went down, holding an arm across his stomach as he tried to get his breath back. The herbivore jumped at him, a dagger aimed at his throat. 

Louis pulled back the bowstring and let his arrow fly. The force of it hitting the kangaroo’s shoulder pushed it off of Legosi, who took his chance to keep running. 

Louis kept the wolf in his sights, firing off arrows to deter the guards from getting near him. Soon, he saw the familiar forms of his lions entering the area, engaging in their own battles. He sent arrows towards their enemies as well.

Arrow after arrow he let fly, most hitting their targets, and the wayward ones still causing damage. Until he heard a groan come from the floor. 

Marius lifted his head and snarled at Louis. 

“You fucker!”

Louis aimed an arrow at Marius, but the ape was fast. 

He tackled Louis to the floor, ripping the arrow out of his grasp and stabbing it into Louis’s thigh.

Louis cried out in pain. He struggled, freeing his good leg and slamming the heel of his boot into Marius’s chin. 

The ape’s grip loosed enough for Louis to get to his feet. The respite was short lived as Marius followed him up. He slammed his fist into the side of Louis’s face. Lights flashed across Louis’s vision as his head whipped to the side. Maruis sent him flying back with a heavy blow to the cervid’s chest.

Louis felt his head slam into the wall. There was a resulting viscous crack, pain erupted from the top of his head and something clattered to the floor beside him. Louis’s ears rang. He felt blood trickle down his head. His skull felt uneven.

“You,” Marius approached. Louis squinted his eyes open to see the ape baring his hauntingly sharp teeth at him, “ _You_ caused this.”

“Do you realize what you’ve done?” Marius continued, grabbing Louis by his collar and pinning him to the wall, “You’ve just destroyed this city.”

Louis blinked his eyes against the pain in his head, “This isn’t a city. It’s a fucking slaughterhouse.”

Marius sneered at him.

“And I’ll keep it a slaughterhouse! I’ve killed hundreds of carnivores, and I’ll kill _thousands_ more! I won’t let a single one leave this city alive! Not while I’m still around to make sure of it! And I’ll kill anyone who gets in my way, _Adler_.”

Weapon, weapon, he needed a weapon. Louis racked his brain for options as he let Marius scream at him.

The arrows were out of his reach across the room. Marius didn’t have any on his person, why would he with the amount of strength he has. He doesn’t even need to use fangs or hor--

Oh.

“ _Nobody_ lies to me. _Nobody_ betrays me! I’ll make sure the last sound you hear before I kill you is that mutt screaming while I skin him alive!”

If Louis had the capacity to growl, he would have. He made do with an enraged shout as he reached a hand up and ripped his still-attached antler from his skull and plunged the sharp tips into Marius’s side.

The ape screamed in pain, dropping Louis to the ground. The deer skittered away, blood dripping into this other eye and his pain racing from his head down his neck

The room was filled with their harsh breathing, the distant screaming of Meereen’s citizens, and the steady drip of blood onto the stone floor.

“Why,” the ape hissed at him, hands trying to staunch the blood flow from where Louis stabbed him. “After everything they did to us. Why would you side with them?”

An image, all too familiar, of a young chimp whimpering behind bars flashed across Louis’s mind. But as Louis looked at the fallen ape, shadowed by the burnt remains of the arena behind him, Louis could muster up no pity for the herbivore.

“The difference between you and me, Maruis,” he brushed the blood out of his eyes so he could meet the ape’s, “is that _I_ decided I wouldn’t let the Market control my life anymore.”

Marius furrowed his brows at the statement. Louis wondered if, in a different lifetime, one where Ibuki didn’t break open his cage door, if he would have been the one sitting in the ape’s place.

The door slammed open, and through it stepped an animal Louis was all too relieved to see.

The wolf’s eyes widened as they landed on Louis's bloodied, antler-less state.

“Louis!” he fell to his knees at his side.

“Legosi,” Louis couldn’t help but smile. He reached up and grabbed a fistful of the wolf’s shirt. 

Legosi’s hands hovered over him, like he wanted to help but didn’t want to inadvertently hurt him at the same time.

“Are you alright? Wait...um, dumb question.”

Louis let out a soft laugh. This wolf was ridiculous.

“My head hurts. Bring me to Dolph, would you?” Louis asked.

The tower shook as a large shadow descended across the room. Marius and Louis flinched as the enormous head of the dragon appeared in the window, its crown of horns sharply blocking out the sun, eyes honing in on the wounded chimpanzee. The dragon lifted its lips, revealing rows of knife-edged teeth, and growled deeply.

Legosi eyed the scene warily before putting one arm around Louis’s back and the other under his knees.

“I didn’t know your friend was a dragon,” Louis said weakly, the last remaining strength in his body suddenly dissipating as the wolf lifted him from the ground. The fact that Louis didn’t feel the urge to protest told him just how hard his head had been hit. Louis was actually astounded that the wolf still had the strength to carry him after the past hour.

Legosi shifted Louis in his arms, and wow, he was so warm.“You and me both.”

He wrapped his arms around Legosi’s neck as the wolf hastily exited the room. He was able to glimpse the dragon’s maw light up with a raw, demonic orange light before Legosi kicked the door shut behind them. 

Resting his chin on Legosi’s shoulder, Louis stayed conscious long enough to bathe in the satisfaction of Marius's scream as he burned alive.

* * *

Legosi squinted his eyes against the harsh wind. He leaned over, watching the varied landscape of Essos rush beneath them, fast and rough like a flowing river. Grass, trees, houses, they were all so small from this high in the air. 

Meereen had disappeared beyond the horizon, the cloud of smoke drifting up from the now demolished fighting pit swallowed up by the curve of the world long ago.

“This is insane,” Dolph muttered from his place on Drogon’s back.

“I still can’t believe I’m not dreaming,” Agata replied, his eyes wide as he took in the distant mountain range disappearing behind them

“I don’t know, I’m pretty sure I’ve had nightmares like this,” Free said. He had his whole body pressed against the dragon’s back. If Drogon felt the lion's claws digging into his hide, he hadn’t mentioned it. “We’re almost to the part where we slide off and fall to our deaths.”

Legosi craned his neck to look behind him. Louis was still unconscious, secured against Ibuki’s chest as they flew. Dolph had bandaged his wounds as best he could. He looked so strange without his antlers: smaller, more vulnerable. Legosi wished, not for the first time, that he could’ve gotten to him and Marius sooner.

Drogon turned his head, his flight unchanging as he eyed Legosi, “ _I can feel your exhaustion, Dragonling. Sleep._ ”

Legosi acknowledged the dragon with a hum. It was true, his whole body hurt, the cut on his palm stung every time he tightened his grip on the spines along Drogon’s back. The leftover adrenaline lighting up his veins had long since dissipated, and the rhythmic flapping of Drogon’s wings was soothing. His eyes burned, longing to close for a long night’s rest.

But he couldn’t sleep. Not so soon after what had happened. Every time he closed his eyes he’d see the cheetah’s resignation, would hear the jackal’s desperate, dying pleas. Their cut off breaths, their blood streaming down their bodies. They replayed in his head over, and over, and over…

Legosi flinched as a hand was placed between his shoulder blades. Ibuki’s palm was hot, his presence solid, steadying him.

“You did good, Legosi.”

Tears burned in the corners of Legosi’s eyes. He blinked repeatedly until they went away.

Lost in his own thoughts, the rest of their flight felt shorter than it actually was. As the sun began to sink and the sky turned pink, a mundane village appeared nestled along a curving riverbank.

The exhaustion fled from Legosi’s body at the sight.

“There, that’s it!” He leaned over and pointed downwards.

Drogon followed his direction, circling and spiraling in descent until they roughly touched down outside the village borders.

Legosi’s throat tightened. It was there, it was _right there_.

With a loud _whoosh_ , a wall of flames appeared before them, blocking their path to the village.

“Leave this place, dragon! I will not ask a second time!” a voice shouted across the clearing.

Legosi gasped. He slid off of Drogon’s back, landing unsteadily. He moved forward, towards the fire, towards the voice that was so familiar it _hurt_.

And there, silhouetted against the firelight of his own creation, for the first time in four years, Legosi saw him.

“Didn’t you hear me? I said lea-” Gosha’s harsh command cut off, jaw dropping as he caught sight of Legosi standing amidst the tall grass.

Legosi felt tears prick his eyes once more, “Hi, _Kepava_.”

Gosha’s hands fell to his sides, the fire-wall behind him vanishing completely.

“Legosi?” Gosha’s voice wavered.

Legosi smiled, the tears escaping his eyes. 

And then Legosi and Gosha were running. The minute he was within arm’s length, Gosha nearly plowed Legosi over with an all-encompassing hug, but the old komodo steadied him, crushing his grandson against him. Legosi’s wounds twinged uncomfortably, but he didn’t care. He returned the hug full force. His tail whipped around happily behind him.

“Legosi,” his grandfather cried, tears dripping onto the wolf’s shirt, “Legosi, oh my boy. My _boy_.”

Legosi hugged him tighter. 

“I’m home, Grandpa.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Daenerys Targaryen would've been an albino komodo dragon, change my mind.
> 
> Stay tuned for the appearance of more beloved Beastars characters, an Intro to Magic 101, and more!


End file.
